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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 



7 am the Light of the World.' 9 

— Jesus. 



NINE 
GREAT PREACHERS 

BY 

ALBERT H. CURRIER, D.D. 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 



^Mi 5 






Copyright, 1912 
By Luther H. Cart 



THE RUMFORD PRESS 
CONCORD • N • H . U • S • A 



©CI.A330467 
Hoi 



! 



i 



DEDICATION 

To his former pupils, students of his classes 
in Oberlin Theological Seminary during the 
twenty-six years of his service in that institu- 
tion as instructor in the art of preaching, 
whose careers he has followed with sympathetic 
interest ever since they went forth at graduation 
to the great work of preaching the Gospel, this 
volume is affectionately dedicated by 

The Author 



PREFACE 

The biographical studies contained in this volume 
have been culled from a delightful field of literature. 
For many years the author has roamed about this 
field with pleasure and profit. From the experience 
thus obtained he heartily concurs in the opinion 
of Professor Benjamin Jowett, the famous Master 
of Balliol College, Oxford University, that "Of 
great men it may be truly said that it does us good 
only to look at them. The lives of great and good 
men are the best sermons; and the preacher may 
do well sometimes to shield himself behind them 
and so to speak with greater authority than his 
own words could fairly claim." Professor Jowett's 
volume of "Biographical Sermons" affords a good 
illustration of the truth of his words. 

If "history is philosophy teaching by example," 
as an eminent writer has said, biography of this 
kind is even more; it is both philosophy and Chris- 
tianity exemplified in the most impressive object- 
lessons. 

The author cherishes the hope that the studies 
given in this volume which relate to preachers of 
different denominations, will convince its readers 
that "All faiths afford the constant and the wise" — 
a better acquaintance with whom through its pages 
will be found stimulating and profitable. It is 
his belief that we do well as Christians to recognize 

vii 



PREFACE 

the comprehensive character of Christianity and 
the essential agreement of its adherents of different 
names. Our hymnals contain, and we use in our 
public worship with hearty enjoyment and spiritual 
benefit, hymns composed by Catholics, Anglicans, 
Presbyterians, Methodists, Quakers, Unitarians and 
other religious hymn- writers. They assist the devo- 
tions and kindle to the adoration of God and faith 
in Christ all Christian believers. A similar effect 
is produced by the lives and sermons of the preachers 
of different denominations. They reveal "one faith, 
one hope, one baptism"; they inspire and nourish 
in us the same religious sentiments, and convey 
to us the essential truth of the Gospel of Jesus 
Christ. 

Whatever, then, the religious denomination one 
may belong to, his attitude to other Christians 
should be one of brotherly kindness and tolerance 
instead of sectarian coldness. No good reason can 
be given why they should not heartily unite in 
the promotion and support of measures of approved 
value for the social and moral welfare of mankind, 
or for the establishment and support of whatever 
form of worship and Christian fellowship may seem 
best, or alone feasible, in the community where 
they live. 

"I cannot," says Richard Baxter, "be so narrow 
in my principles of church communion as many 
are, that are so much for a liturgy, or so much 
against it; so much for ceremonies, or so much 
against them, that they can hold communion with 
no church that is not of their mind and way. I 

viii 



PREFACE 

am not for narrowing the church more than Christ 
himself alloweth us, nor for robbing him of any of 
bis flock." 

By scorning such narrowness and cordially frater- 
nizing with all who sincerely profess to love and 
honor Christ we best honor his name and illustrate 
the harmony of feeling and practice existing among 
the Christians expressed in one of the best of our 
Christian hymns : 

"O Lord and Master of us all! 
Whate'er our name or sign, 
We own thy sway, we hear thy call. 
We test our lives by thine." 

Whittier. 

Of the biographical studies composing this volume, 
two, Bossuet and John Bunyan, have previously 
appeared in the Bibliotheca Sacra, and the author 
is indebted to the kindness of the publishers of that 
quarterly for the permission to insert them here. 
Of the rest, none have been published before. 

Oberlin, O., January 25th, 1912. 



IX 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I. Introduction: The Interest and 

Value of Ministerial Biographies 3 

II. Chrysostom 31 

III. Bernard of Clairvaux .... 71 

IV. Richard Baxter 113 

V. Bossuet 165 

VI. John Bunyan 191 

VII. Frederick W. Robertson .... 233 

VIII. Alexander McLaren 283 

IX. Henry Ward Beecher 325 

X. Phillips Brooks 361 



XI 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 



I 

INTRODUCTION 



INTRODUCTION 

The Interest and Value of Ministerial 
Biographies 

We desire to present to the consideration of our 
readers some special reasons that recommend this 
class of literature to them for their perusal and study. 
Before entering, however, upon the consideration 
of these reasons one or two objections sometimes 
made to such studies claim brief notice. 

It may be said that the writers of these biog- 
raphies are usually partial friends or blind hero- 
worshippers, and that they do not give a true and 
reliable account of the men whom they pretend to 
describe; they exaggerate their merits, and they 
hide or extenuate their faults to such a degree that 
the result is entirely untrustworthy and misleading. 
Such men as they describe, it may therefore be 
said, never really lived, and the admirable portraits 
of them which they present are largely creations of 
their own imaginations. So the admiration they 
excite in us is unwarranted and not likely to prove 
beneficial, as no good can be expected from what is 
false. To this objection it may be replied that it 
is easy to make all proper deductions for the possible 
partiality and hero-worship. We do this con- 
tinually in our estimates of those whom the 

3 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

fond partiality of relatives or friends clothes with 
unreal perfections. It is possible and easy to 
discern the shadow of truth underneath the exag- 
gerations. They represent, we may say, what the 
clearer vision of love perceives — the soul of excel- 
lence in spite of every fault. They represent, if 
not what the persons portrayed really were as 
judged by an uncharitable world, yet what they 
aimed to be and often seemed to be. And it may 
be insisted that there is profit in the contemplation 
of this, though somewhat of hallucination is expe- 
rienced. It is good for men to believe in the possi- 
bility of such excellence. The hallucination, if 
such there be, is similar to that which some cele- 
brated piece of antique statuary like the Venus 
di Milo, or the Hermes of Praxiteles, recovered 
from the ruins of Olympia, exerts upon an admiring 
art student or susceptible spectator, who though 
he must own and regret the mutilations that mar 
its beauty, yet in spite of them discerns the glorious 
ideal that the artist had in mind and to a large 
extent expressed in his work, and which still survives 
the marring effect of its mutilation. 

It may be also objected to such studies that they 
are likely to prove more injurious than beneficial 
by inducing a slavish imitation of the subjects of 
them to the loss of one's independence of mind. 
There is, perhaps, some danger of this. Phillips 
Brooks, who highly extols the value of biographical 
literature, candidly confesses the danger. "Here," 
he says, "is the only danger I know in the reading 
of biographies, lest he who reads should lose himself, 

4 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

shall come to be not himself, but the feeble repetition 
of some other man." The same danger, however, 
attends our highest blessings; the blessings of 
friendship, of social intercourse, of study of the 
great masters of style, and of the inspiring authors 
of remarkable works of literature. 

But we do not because of this danger refuse to 
form friendships, or decline the pleasure of inter- 
course with attractive people, or the benefit that comes 
from familiarity with the masters of literature. 
We guard against the danger by trying to get from 
these blessings their proper benefit. This, in every 
case, is not that of servile imitation, but of inspira- 
tion or suggestion. Instead of surrendering our 
personal independence and "swamping" ourselves 
or suppressing our own creative powers in the 
endeavor to imitate them, we are incited, if we use 
them aright, to improve ourselves and perfect our 
work by the suggestions they give. Their effect on 
the mind is that of a fertilizing agency, by which 
its natural powers are not dwarfed or extinguished 
but stimulated to answer the ends of its existence. 
It is like the influence of Milton on Burke, or of 
Tillotson on Dryden, by which these eminent 
writers became not copyists of the styles of Milton 
and Tillotson, but makers, each of them, of a better 
style of their own. The same thing is true of the 
ideas obtained from the study of the masterpieces 
of literature. The mind thus becomes not only a 
casket of pearls gathered from the writers studied, 
but a producer of pearls itself. The pearls of 
thought gathered are seed thoughts. Sown in the 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

mind, they make it a fruitful bed of pearls, i, e., 
they produce harvests of similar ideas, often expressed 
and shaped with similar felicity, but a felicity of 
their own. 

Let us now consider some reasons that commend 
ministerial biographies to us as profitable for perusal 
and study. 

I. There is a strong presumption in favor of such 
books, as likely to afford profitable reading, from the 
fact that they belong to the same class of literature as 
the Gospels and the book of Acts. The whole Bible, 
indeed, may be described as a collection of biographies 
rather than of religious dogmas and precepts. Its 
method of teaching is not so much didactic as illus- 
trative. It instructs us in the nature and obligations 
of religion principally by examples and object-lessons 
rather than by doctrinal statements and definitions. 
How precious and impressive these sacred biogra- 
phies of the Bible are, whether of the Old Testament 
or of the New! The longest of them is not a word 
too long; the shortest of them is so significant that 
an ocean of meaning seems to be contained in a 
drop of words. Take that of Enoch, for example. 
What is said of him is compressed in a few sentences. 
There is nothing here to satisfy vain curiosity, no 
elaborate narrative touching things private or public, 
but little more than is summed up in the declara- 
tion — "And Enoch walked with God, and he was 
not, for God took him." But how sublimely signifi- 
cant, nevertheless, this declaration is ! It is like the 
enbalmed heart of a king, the rest of whose body 
has turned to indistinguishable dust. Nothing more 

6 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

is needed to give us the assurance that here was one 
of earth's great men, and that he deserved a place 
in the roll of God's saints. 

Still more may be said of the biographies of the 
New Testament. That of Christ in the Gospels is 
an inestimable treasure; that of the apostles an 
unfailing inspiration. By means of these sacred 
biographies of the Bible the knowledge of God and 
of the effect of his saving truth has been spread 
abroad and is kept alive in the world. Generation 
after generation feed upon them and derive spiritual 
life from them. By them our faith is firmly anchored 
in the teachings of our religion. By them the 
church of God continually renews its ideals of 
Christian character and duty. According to the 
study given them and the observance paid to their 
teachings is its standard of piety and endeavor. If 
they are neglected, its spiritual life declines; if they 
are thoughtfully read and pondered, this life is 
invigorated and it exerts a transforming influence 
over the world. 

The influence of ministerial biographies is in the 
same line with the power of the sacred Scriptures. 
The subjects of them, almost without exception, 
fully believed in and loved the Bible. They were 
diligent students of its pages, they embraced its 
invitations, they relied upon its promises, they 
obeyed its precepts. Their religious faith was 
shaped by its instruction; from it they "fetched 
the sacred fire that kindled their sacrifices." They 
were, in short, Bible Christians; their ministry was 
a Bible ministry, and whatever success they had 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

in the world they owed to this fact. It may, there- 
fore, be truthfully said that the credit of their 
characters and work gives new luster and credit 
to the Bible, inasmuch as they are embodiments of 
its great ideas. Embodying its great ideas, they 
exhibit its best fruit — that of an earnest vital piety. 
And if the perusal of their biographies do nothing 
else but quicken the piety of their readers and give 
them a higher standard of piety, they receive from 
them the best thing they can get and what is most 
essential to their own welfare and the good of society. 
These biographies, furthermore, illustrate and 
confirm the truth of the Scriptures; they stamp 
it as divine. Now that the attesting power of the 
early miracles, authenticating Christianity as from 
God, has become somewhat enfeebled by lapse of 
time, and the record of its mighty works in the 
beginning has by familiarity grown less impressive, 
and doubt and incredulity are beginning to rise in 
men's minds with palsying effect, this truth has 
received a fresh attestation of its divine origin and 
authority from these examples of its indestructible 
vitality. By reason of them the believing people 
of God can say: "Now we know that it is no 
transient superstition, nor cunningly devised fable, 
as the emboldened scepticism of the age asserts. 
In it there dwells a supernatural potency — an 
undecaying vitality. Like the Christ, whom it 
presents, it is "the same yesterday, today and 
forever." Age doth not wither it, nor the growth 
of knowledge discredit it. It is authenticated as 
the truth of God in the nineteenth and twentieth 

8 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

centuries by mighty works quite as marvelous as 
those which attested it in the first century. Its 
continual operation in the world has been, and is 
such as to create what Doctor Storrs called "a 
standing miracle" — "the standing miracle of Chris- 
tendom," to bear constant and indubitable witness 
to its truth. The lives of eminent missionaries of 
the past century to the unchristian peoples of the 
world — of Judson, Coan, Williams, Paton, Thoburn, 
Hume and many others too numerous to mention, 
and the lives of humble city missionaries, such as 
Lord Shaftsbury speaks of as his helpers in the 
effort to evangelize and uplift the poor of London, 
and of such devoted lay-preachers and Christian 
toilers among the poor of New York as those 
described in "Down in Water Street," and in Dr. J. 
W. Chapman's "Life of S. H. Hadley": and the 
lives of devoted ministers and evangelists, as Edward 
Pay son, C. L. Goodell, Charles G. Finney and Mr. 
Moody, are filled with wonderful works as great and 
marvelous as those of the apostles. Doctor Pierson 
cannot be accused of exaggeration in calling the story 
of their achievements "A New Acts of the Apostles." 
These "New Acts," equally with the Old, prove the 
Gospel "the power of God unto salvation." It is 
not an extinguished torch whose oil is entirely con- 
sumed and whose wick has burned to a cinder. It 
is on the contrary an inextinguishable torch whose 
flame is fed from inexhaustible sources and which 
burns without being consumed like the burning bush, 
which the Church of Scotland has made the symbol 
of its enduring faith and inextinguishable life. 

9 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

II. These ministerial biographies are very enter- 
taining. Nowhere in the whole range of literature, 
can we spend more delightful hours, or find more 
healthful mental recreation than among the pub- 
lished reminiscences of clergymen, such as Charles 
Kinglsey, F. W. Robertson and C. H. Spurgeon 
of England; and Lyman Beecher, Charles G. Finney, 
Henry Ward Beecher, Phillips Brooks and Edward 
Everett Hale, of our country. A good example 
was given the past year in The Outlook for Nov. 
12th, in the "Reminiscences of Edward Everett 
Hale" by George S. Merriam. It seemed to us 
in reading it a charming and effective piece of por- 
traiture, by which every trait of that admirable 
man was set forth with abundant wealth of illus- 
tration and felicity of style. He possessed a rare 
combination of qualities, mental, moral and social 
and he was largely endowed with each kind. His 
inventiveness and fertility of mind were apparent 
from the number of his writings. But numerous 
as these were — flowing seemingly from an inex- 
haustible spring — their excellence was as remarkable 
as their quantity. Mr. Merriam says: "He had 
wit, he had humor, and something more — a vein of 
fancy, a happy and merry make-believe. . . . 
His peculiar humor and fancy blossomed out in a 
fairy-story quality which he often threw into his 
writings. It gave sometimes a whimsical form to 
his inveterate optimism. He turned to it for his 
own and his friends' delectation as a child turns 
to its play. It tinges many of his stories of serious 
purpose like 'Ten Times One is Ten.' Truth to 

10 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

tell, the roseate hue sometimes is followed by a 
touch of disheartenment in the listeners. Real 
drunkards are not always so surely and swiftly 
reformed; the visible Kingdom of God does not seem 
to advance by a tenfold multiplication annually. 
. . . But his rainbows made the tramp along 
the dusty highway more cheerful even if you never 
found the pot of gold." His moral and social 
qualities made him a wise and sympathetic counsellor 
of people of every class — of those in perplexity and 
trouble, and those afflicted with sore bereavement. 
His "happy and merry make-believe" made him 
the welcome companion of children and imaginative 
young people, and his fancy with its bias to drollery 
mingled with wisdom wove wholesome fictions and 
extravagances that forced smiles and approval 
from both the fun-loving and the serious-minded. 
His religious creed and his preaching were marked 
by the broadest charity; and he sought to win men 
to his religious belief not by arguments and theo- 
logical controversy, but by "the way of life which 
he taught and which he lived and which . . . 
generates an atmosphere in which scepticism 
withers." "Life — that," says Mr. Merriam, "was 
his characteristic word, and the motto on his church 
stationery was, 'I am come that they might have 
life and that they might have it more abundantly.' " 
To meet this man on the street, and receive his 
greeting of "Good Morning," was a benediction 
that made the whole day good. Similar is the 
effect of perusing these "Reminiscences," in which 
his friend has embalmed his memory. 

11 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

One rises from the perusal refreshed, morally 
invigorated and inspired with the purpose of fulfill- 
ing Mr. Hale's parting exhortation on one occasion 
to this friend: "Make good society where you are." 
Not all the reminiscences of clergymen, we admit, 
are equally interesting with this example, but 
generally, we repeat, ministerial biographies are 
entertaining. Our judgment is based upon quite 
a wide acquaintance with them; which experience, 
candidly weighed, leads us to recognize the truth 
of a witty remark once made in our hearing in regard 
to the ministry by the Rev. Daniel Butler, familiarly 
known as "Bible Butler," as representing the 
American Bible Society in Boston and the churches 
of New England. Witnessing their sparkling sallies 
of wit and racy wisdom before the meeting, as they 
gathered at the entrance of the church and upon 
the lawn, on an occasion that brought a large number 
of ministers together, Mr. Butler dryly said: "The 
hilarity of my ministerial brethren at these gather- 
ings always reminds me of the words of the Psalmist : 
' The trees of the Lord are full of sap ! ' ' 

III. The biographies of eminent servants of God 
in the work of the ministry — whether ecclesiastically 
ordained thereto, or unordained — afford an effective 
cure for religious discouragement and depression. 
Sometimes in their religious works and Christian 
activities good people are dismayed at the number 
and greatness of the obstacles opposed to them. 
Because of the infirmity of our human nature their 
zeal abates and their spirits flag. It seems to them, 
then, that their work is altogether vain; that they 

n 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

accomplish little or nothing by it, that their best 
efforts result only in weariness and disappointment. 
"Why attempt anything further?" "Why spend 
our strength for naught?" the discouraged heart 
then cries. These suggestions have a paralyzing 
effect. The strongest and most energetic and 
courageous men, like Elijah and John the Baptist 
and the great reformers, Luther, Knox, and the 
most heroic missionaries, have all felt the depressing 
spell and been almost overcome by it, so as to sink 
down into a state of dull apathy and despair. At 
such times a good biography — with its thrilling 
account of noble and beneficent achievement — is a 
wholesome spiritual tonic. It energizes and inspires 
the tired heart and jaded spirits with fresh life and 
renewed vigor. The subject of it encountered 
similar obstacles and felt similar discouragement — 
but roused by the voice and strengthened by the 
power of God, he rose up and renewed the fight 
and won at last. Its effect is like that of martial 
music upon soldiers weary with long marches and 
faint with hunger. The trumpet peal revives their 
courage — rekindles their ardor and nerves them to 
a conquering pitch of endeavor. It is a familiar 
story of classic literature that Themistocles, the 
leader of the Greeks at Salamis, was stimulated to 
those daring efforts which gave them the victory by 
the remembered example of Miltiades the Greek 
leader at Marathon. So the leaders of the Church 
have often been incited to triumphant effort by 
the examples of those who had wrought righteous- 
ness in the service of God. This is one of God's 

13 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

ways of inspiring man, a method of his providence. 
The coals from off his altar, by which his chosen 
ones have had their lips touched to eloquence and 
their sins of indolence and cowardice purged away, 
are the bright records of those who have laid them- 
selves upon his altar and worked for his glory. $ 

IV. In the reading and study of ministerial 
biographies, we receive interesting and valuable sug- 
gestions as to the best methods of ministerial work, 
and the best means of attaining the highest success in 
the ministry. Such knowledge is particularly val- 
uable to ministers themselves, who more than any 
other class are likely to be readers of these biog- 
raphies. The subjects of them were among the 
most eminent and successful in their sacred calling. 
But for their distinction in it, in some way or other, 
their biographies would not have been given to 
the world. The fact of a biography in every case 
implies that the subject of it was believed to be 
more than ordinary; that his life contained impor- 
tant lessons, or was marked by extraordinary 
achievements; or that he possessed a character of 
such beauty and moral excellence as make it deserv- 
ing of general admiration and worthy of emulation. 
But his eminence and success may have been due 
as much to the wise methods he used as to his 
superior moral and mental qualities, or his genius. 
In respect to the latter, he may be — probably is 
— inimitable; in respect to the former, his example 
can be profitably studied and to some extent copied. 
We think it may be truly affirmed that ordinary 
abilities trained and directed by wise methods will 

14 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

often appear to better advantage and achieve more 
usefulness than extraordinary abilities ill-directed. 
This remark will be found true of the whole range 
of ministerial activity. Whether we consider his 
pulpit performances or his pastoral work, a good 
method counts for much. Such methods are often 
discovered or suggested in the biographies of emi- 
nent ministers. These methods were peculiar to 
the persons whose ministry they distinguished. 
There is wisdom in studying them and often great 
advantage in adopting them. By doing this, one 
is saved from mistakes and the loss of time and 
the toil involved in painfully and slowly groping 
for a way to success, when a clear and practicable 
way has been already discovered and its value well 
tested. 

We venture to particularize some valuable accom- 
plishments that may be thus acquired: Several 
things are involved in the art of effective preaching. 
Foremost among these are personal piety, a familiar 
acquaintance with the Bible, a good understanding 
of its teaching, the ability to reason soundly, and 
the skill to put one's thoughts logically and attract- 
ively together. Besides these, an opulent and forcible 
diction ready to the tongue, the power of apt illus- 
tration, of natural and easy gesture and a good 
voice, which the preacher knows how to manage 
so as impressively to express the varying shades of 
thought and feeling that occur in speaking; these 
are usual adjuncts of pulpit power. 

As illustrating the value of a good voice, 
well managed, we quote what President Francis 

15 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Wayland, of Brown University, says of the preaching 
of Dr. Eliphalet Nott: "When settled in Albany, 
his reputation as a preacher was unparalleled. 
Those who heard his sermon on the death of Hamil- 
ton declared it was the most eloquent discourse 
they ever heard. So far as I can recall his manner, 
after the lapse of many years, the excellency which 
gave him so great power was in the tones of his 
voice. I would almost say they were so perfect 
that a man who did not understand English would, 
from his tones alone, have been able to form an 
idea of the train of thought he was pursuing. When 
he uttered a sentence, the emphasis, inflections 
and tones were so perfect that every part was 
distinctly connected with that to which it belonged 
and you never failed to comprehend his meaning 
precisely. When to this were joined the tones of 
emotion adapted to every range of human feeling, 
you may possibly perceive what must have been 
the effect." In the biography of Doctor Guthrie 
we have a similar testimony as to the power and 
charm of his voice: "He had a powerful, clear and 
musical voice, the intonations of which were varied 
and appropriate, managed with an actor's skill 
though there was not the least appearance of art." 
This power of the voice, characteristic of almost 
all eminent preachers and orators, is almost never 
a natural gift. It is largely the result of elocu- 
tionary training. It was so with Guthrie and Nott. 
Whitefield and Beecher, and a study of their biog- 
raphies will reveal their methods of improving it. 
Guthrie thus tells how it was with himself: "When a 

16 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

divinity student I paid more than ordinary atten- 
tion to the art of elocution, knowing how much of 
the effect produced upon the audience depended 
on the manner as well as on the matter; that in 
point of fact the manner is to the matter as the 
powder is to the ball. I attended elocution classes 
winter after winter, walking across half the city and 
more after eight o'clock at night, fair night and foul, 
and not getting back to my lodgings until about 
10:30 o'clock. There I learned to find out and 
correct many acquired and more or less awkward 
defects in gesture, to be in fact natural; to acquire 
a command over my voice so as to suit its force and 
emphasis to the sense, and to modulate it so as to 
express the feelings, whether of surprise or grief 
or indignation or pity. I had heard very indifferent 
discourses made forcible by a vigorous delivery, 
and able ones reduced to feebleness by a poor pith- 
less delivery. I had read of the extraordinary 
pains Demosthenes and Cicero took to cultivate 
their manner of public speaking and become masters 
of the arts of elocution, and I knew how by a mas- 
terly and natural use of them Whitefield could sway 
the crowds that gathered to hear him at early morn 
on the commons of London." 

Guthrie likewise possessed to an eminent degree 
the power of apt, impressive illustration. Joined 
to the witchery of his voice, it amounted sometimes 
to a power of enchantment. His auditors were 
then spellbound by it. An amusing instance is 
presented in the conduct of a Highland cattle- 
drover one day in Guthrie's congregation in Free 

2 17 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

St. John's. The man stood throughout the service 
in one of the crowded aisles within a few yards of 
the pulpit. From the first he was riveted, a pinch 
of snuff every now and then evincing his satisfaction. 
Toward the end of the sermon and just as the 
preacher was commencing a prolonged illustration 
the stranger applied to his horn mull. Arrested, 
however, he stood motionless, his hand raised with 
the snuff between his fingers, his head thrown 
back, his eyes and mouth wide open. The instant 
that the passage was finished and before the audi- 
ence had time to recover their breath, the drover 
applied the snuff with gusto to his nostrils, and 
forgetting in his excitement alike the place and the 
occasion, turned his head to the crowd behind and 
exclaimed, "Na, Sirs, I never heard the like of that!" 
Such a power of vivid illustration is invaluable 
to a preacher. It is characteristic of the greatest 
preachers. Chrysostom had it, and so bound his 
hearers as with a spell that pickpockets plied their 
trade without detection among them while he was 
preaching. Beecher had it to a remarkable degree, 
as the writer remembers well from having often 
sat spellbound when a young man under his preach- 
ing. To be sure, natural gifts of imagination and 
fancy are required, as a bird must have wings to 
fly. But these gifts must be exercised and suitably 
directed. The faculty of skilful and appropriate 
illustration is a product of diligent self -culture with 
a basis of native endowment. This was the case 
with Guthrie and Beecher. Both of these preachers 
developed it by painstaking effort, having early 

18 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

in their ministry discovered its effectiveness in 
addresses to popular audiences. 

It gives me pleasure to be able to quote the follow- 
ing testimony of the late Dr. William M. Taylor, of 
New York, in support of my opinions. He says: 
"If I may speak from my own experience there is 
no faculty which is more susceptible of development 
by culture than that of discovering analogies. When 
I commenced my ministry, it was a rare thing with 
me to use an illustration. My style then was 
particularly argumentative, and my aim was to con- 
vince and satisfy the understanding, and then to 
make my appeal warmly to the heart. But shortly 
after my removal from my Scotch parsonage to 
Liverpool, Guthrie's "Gospel in Ezekiel" was pub- 
lished, and this was followed a few months later by 
Mr. Beecher's "Life Thoughts." These two books 
opened my eyes to see what was lying all around 
me. Under the inspiration which they communi- 
cated to me, I began to look for spiritual analogies 
in everything. The books I read; the places I 
visited; the incidents that passed under my obser- 
vation; the discoveries of science with which I 
became acquainted — all were scanned by me for 
the purpose of finding in them, if possible, some- 
thing that might be used in pulpit illustration. 
And so it came that when I sat down to my desk, 
appropriate analogies would rise to my pen, and 
the difficulty was not how to get illustrations, but 
which to choose out of the many that offered them- 
selves for my purpose." (See "The Ministry of 
the Word," page 192.) 

19 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

The autobiographic testimony of Doctor Taylor 
proves both that the illustrative faculty, when 
naturally small, may be greatly developed and 
improved, and that he learned the methods of its 
culture and effective use from Guthrie and Beecher 
to transmit them in turn to others in the ministry. 

Another important and essential requisite to 
effective preaching is a good style of oral address. 
We mean by this — as distinguished from a bookish 
or essay style — an easy, forcible, talking style, 
that shall give fit and orderly expression to one's 
flowing thought in the presence of a congregation 
of listeners. Mere fluency is not enough, nor 
imperturbable boldness of spirit, though self-pos- 
session is necessary. It implies a careful premedi- 
tation, so that one knows what he wants to say, 
and a command of language and of the mental 
faculties so complete and absolute that he can utter 
his thought with sure and ready tongue and full 
swing of personality, without hesitation and with 
natural appropriate feeling. 

This style of utterance more than any other thing 
distinguishes a powerful preacher. There are various 
methods of acquiring it according as men are made. 
Some have acquired it by following the suggestions 
of Dr. R. S. Storrs in his valuable "Preaching with- 
out Notes," which is largely descriptive of his own 
interesting experience in the ministry; others like Fox 
and Pitt, the great English Parliamentary orators, as 
described by Goodrich's "British Orators," by the 
practice of translating aloud into idiomatic English 
the great orators of antiquity, combined with the 

20 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

resolute determination to speak whenever oppor- 
tunity was given; still others, as Bunyan and 
Spurgeon, Newman Hall and Moody, did theirs by 
beginning early, with their hearts aflame to tell 
men of God's love and his salvation through faith 
in Christ, though they did it bunglingly and with 
many grammatical errors and ludicrous mistakes 
joined to confusion of mind and matter; but they 
would not wait to obtain more polish "nor stand 
shivering on the brink," but plunged boldly into 
the stream of talk, resolved to "sink or swim, survive 
or perish," in a brave endeavor to speak their mes- 
sage, with the result that they made themselves 
by persistent practice effective preachers, whose 
style was that of earnest men talking to other men 
of the way of salvation. 

Bossuet, the greatest of the French pulpit orators, 
acquired his remarkable style, as Alexander Ham- 
ilton and Daniel Webster acquired theirs, by previous 
writing upon the topic of discourse. So much did 
Bossuet write, that he may be said to have written 
out his sermons entirely before he went into the 
pulpit. ti But "the written sermon," says his biog- 
rapher, "was not written to be exactly repeated." 
This effort of memory while speaking he could not 
make; he would have lost much of his freedom and 
force and naturalness if he had attempted it. Handi- 
capped by this burden laid upon his mind, the fire 
and force of his soul would have been sensibly 
affected. The purpose of previous writing was 
not to provide himself with the exact words needed 
to express his thought, but to develop his thought 

21 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

and to familiarize his mind with the ground to be 
gone over, that, with a clear foresight of the way and 
the goal, he might run forward with all his speed. 
Then he trusted to his powers of expression as 
determined by circumstances and the inspiration 
of the moment, and the sermon as preached was 
usually almost identical in language with the one 
written. The thing to be noticed is that this elo- 
quent preacher, of such resources and gifts, took 
so much pains to prepare himself with his pen 
beforehand, as if he could not trust himself other- 
wise to speak well. With a fertile imagination and 
great readiness of speech, he left little to chance. 
Though he might have won admiration with slight 
toil by the mere exercise of his splendid gifts, for 
forty years he never ceased from toiling to satisfy 
his standard of excellence and make himself more 
perfect. 

The biographies of these different men show their 
various methods of preparation. Wise and happy 
is he who by study of them finds a model best suited 
to himself for imitation and acquires a good style 
of oral address. 

Another valuable acquirement which ministers, 
particularly those of non-liturgical denominations, 
may obtain from the study of ministerial biographies, 
is the ability to lead their congregations acceptably 
and happily in public worship. To give voice, in 
prayer, to the spiritual affections and religious 
longings of their congregations is not the least 
important function of such ministers. Bishop Vin- 
cent of the Methodist Episcopal Church once told 

22 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

the writer that he regarded it as the most difficult 
of their public duties, and one which, he thought, 
is seldom happily performed. When it is thus 
performed and gives fit expression to the conscious 
needs and aspirations of the worshippers, how 
acceptable it is! Then the minister is a true priest 
to his people, bringing them near to God and offering 
in their behalf appropriate sacrifices of praise and 
prayer in which they heartily concur. How shall 
one qualify himself to perform this important and 
difficult office? Ministers, and also devout laymen 
who occasionally lead the devotions of others, often 
wish they had the secret of success. There is no 
better way of acquiring it than by study of the biog- 
raphies of those ministers who have been eminent 
for it, and ascertaining through these how they won 
their success. Such were Edward Payson and the 
late C. L. Goodsell of St. Louis. That which was 
most prized and distinctive in their public min- 
istries was their pulpit prayers. These impressed 
and edified their congregations more than their ser- 
mons. "His prayers," says one who had the priv- 
ilege of sitting under the ministry of Doctor Payson, 
"always took my spirit into the immediate presence 
of Christ amid the glories of the spiritual world. 
It was always a letting down to open my eyes when 
he had concluded and find myself still on the earth." 
His biography tells us the secret of his eminence 
in this service. In the first place, as a godly man 
he daily exercised his spirit in private prayer. His 
heart and his lips were habituated to it, because he 
felt it to be a religious duty and he found sincere 

23 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

delight in it. In addition to this, he made the sub- 
ject of public prayer a matter of special study and 
much thought. He endeavored to form right 
conceptions of it, to determine what its true purpose 
is, what the conditions are of its right performance, 
and he wrote out his thoughts upon the subject 
in a valuable paper that is included in his biog- 
raphy. Thus his soul became so conversant with 
the theory and practice of prayer, private and public, 
that it easily winged its flight to the throne of God 
and delighted in communion with him, and also 
made others sharers of its spiritual rapture, as a 
practiced singer who delights in song lifts to heaven 
the souls of those that hear. In this way Dr. 
Payson made what is too often a cold and uninter- 
esting part of the public worship of the sanctuary 
a means of grace and of spiritual joy to worshippers. 
If the ministerial reader of his biography is encour- 
aged in the endeavor to impart a similar interest 
to this office of public prayer, he receives an inesti- 
mable benefit himself and communicates it to his 
fellow worshippers. 

Methods of successful pastoral work as well as 
of pulpit ministration may be learned from minis- 
terial biographies. No minister of the gospel can 
read those of Baxter, McChene, C. L. Goodsell 
and H. C. Trumbull without being made wiser for 
this work. They studied how to approach men 
easily and happily with the subject of religion 
until they acquired great skill and success in doing 
it. Their methods of introducing the subject by 
conversation, by letter, by friendly attentions of 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

various kinds, are well worth study by any who 
wish to acquire somewhat of their skill and success. 

V. By the study of these biographies one acquires 
high ideals of character and achievement. One man 
is superior to another, and accomplishes more in 
the world not merely because he is endowed with 
superior natural abilities but because he has a 
higher ideal of excellence. This he may have 
obtained from his parents and instructors, but more 
probably from his reading. A good biography 
perhaps has given it to him. Having it, how is 
he affected by it? Recall the influence of ideals 
in art and literature. Giotto, Fra Angelico, Ra- 
phael, Michael Angelo — these eminent artists had 
ideals of saintly beauty and physical perfection, 
which possessed their minds and gave shape to 
the work of their hands. Their ideals forbade 
contentment with commonplace achievements. 
They stimulated them to attempt higher and better 
things to the last. 

So with the great masters in literature. Milton, 
for example, tells us of his studies of Plato, Xeno- 
phon, Dante, and Petrarch, and how through their 
influence he "was confirmed in this opinion, that 
he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write 
well in laudable things ought himself to be a true 
poem, a pattern of the best and honorablest things;" 
and how he himself indulged the hope that he 
"might perhaps leave something so written to 
aftertimes as they should not willingly let die. . . . 
These thoughts possessed me. For which cause 
. . . I applied myself . . , to fix all the 

25 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

industry and art I could unite to the adorning of 
my native tongue . . . to be an interpreter 
and relater of the best and sagest things among 
mine own citizens throughout this island in the 
mother dialect; that what the greatest and choicest 
wits of Athens, Rome or Modern Italy and those 
Hebrews of Old did for their country, I in my 
proportion might do for mine." These confessions 
reveal a mind that had received through its studies 
a high ideal, which attuned his heart to its work 
and shaped his thoughts to those forms of eloquent 
expression that came from his hand. 

We suppose that he never quite attained his ideal, 
that his mind had glimpses of a perfection which 
his hand never achieved, but he was led by it to 
greater things than he otherwise would have reached. 
So of other writers whom we admire or fondly love. 
It was his ideal which inspired Whittier to attempt 
his highest verse, and which, after he had done his 
best, made him say to the friends who crowned him 
on his seventieth birthday with the laurel of their 
praise: 

"You do but read between the written lines 
The finer grace of unfulfilled designs." 

Similar is the operation of high ideals in the work 
of the Christian ministry or of any other honorable 
calling. They keep the mind fixed upon a high 
mark; they refine and exalt its perceptions of 
duty and of excellence, until these result in a per- 
manent moral elevation of character, and a remark- 
able power of achievement. Such moral elevation 

26 



INTEREST OF CLERICAL LIVES 

of character and superiority in achievement shed 
a dignity and beauty over all the actions of life. 
What we mean is shown by Phillips Brooks in the 
fine illustration which forms the conclusion of his 
instructive essay upon Biography: "There are," 
he says, "some of the great old paintings in which 
some common work of common men is going on, 
the meeting of two friends, the fighting of a battle, 
a marriage or a funeral, and all the background 
of the picture is a mass of living faces, dim, misty, 
evidently with a veil between them and the life 
we live, yet evidently there, evidently watching 
the sad or happy scene, and evidently creating 
an atmosphere within which the action of the pic- 
ture goes its way. Like such a picture is the life 
of one who lives in a library of biographies, and 
feels the lives which have been, always pouring in 
their spirit and example on the lives which have 
succeeded them upon the earth." 

This elevating effect of biographies is due to the 
spiritual converse had with those whose lives they 
record. We know them and converse with them 
in their best moments, for the things we read of 
them comprise the best things they said and did. 
We are in good society while turning over the pages 
that report these. Our hearts thrill to their words 
and narrated deeds as to those of some high com- 
pany to which a rare good fortune has admitted 
us. And they not only inspire us at the time, 
but they linger long in our remembrance with sweet 
and wholesome effect. They permanently influence 
for good our characters and opinions; by familiar 

27 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

converse with them we are able to catch somewhat 
of their spirit and tone. 
James Russell Lowell truly says: 

"As thrills of long-hushed tone 

Live in the viol, so our souls grow fine 
With keen vibrations from the touch divine 
Of noble natures gone." 



28 



II 

CHRYSOSTOM 



II 

CHRYSOSTOM 

a. D. 347-407 

Of the highest rank among the great preachers of 
Christianity in the past, "one of half a dozen at 
most," Dr. R. S. Storrs says, was the illustrious John 
of Antioch, best known by the name of Chrysostom, 
"of the golden mouth," given him on account of his 
great eloquence. He was born of noble parentage 
at Antioch, in 347 A. D. His father, Secundus, was 
an officer, Magister Militum, in the Imperial army 
of Syria. He, dying in the infancy of his son, left 
a young widow, Anthusa, twenty years of age, who, 
refusing to marry again, devoted herself to the care 
of her two little children, John and an older sister. 
She appears, from all that we can learn, to have been 
a remarkable woman, remarkable for her piety and 
for the mental and moral qualities displayed in the 
training of her children, and the management of the 
considerable estate left by her husband. Chrysos- 
tom himself informs us that when his teacher, the 
celebrated Libanius, heard of the manner in which 
she had acquitted herself of her parental task, he 
exclaimed: "Heavens! what women these Christians 
have!" She was to her son what Monica was to 
Augustine; it was her influence and her molding 
hand that had most to do with shaping his charac- 
ter. She jealously guarded him from the pollutions 
of the great and corrupt city of Antioch; she pro- 

31 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

vided him with the best instructors; she fostered 
and stimulated the extraordinary mental gifts and 
aptitude for learning displayed by him in childhood; 
and, above all, she encouraged him in pious habits 
and an intimacy with pious companions. 

Twofold Environment — Local and Imperial 

Consider the impressive local environment amid 
which he grew up and lived until near the age of 
fifty, and the probable influence of it upon him. 

Antioch was one of the most splendid cities of the 
Roman Empire. Situated on the southern bank of 
the Orontes within a few miles of the Mediterranean 
Sea, both Nature and Art had made it beautiful and 
imposing. Readers of "Ben Hur" will recall the 
description given in that celebrated work of the 
principal features of this great metropolis of Syria. 
The descriptions found there represent quite faith- 
fully and truly what Antioch was in the days of 
its meridian splendor, which lasted to the time of 
Chrysostom and later. It had a population of 
200,000 people, of a heterogeneous character, con- 
sisting of Asiatic, Syrian, Greek, Jewish and Roman 
elements. The river Orontes was the principal gate- 
way through which it was connected with and en- 
riched by the commerce of the world. All lands 
contributed of their resources to its wealth and 
pleasure and luxury. It was a magnificent city. 
Its streets were adorned with covered collonades of 
marble, on either side, beneath which its inhabi- 
tants walked protected from the scorching sun of 



CHRYSOSTOM 

summer and the rains of winter. From the moun- 
tains to the south, massive stone aqueducts, whose 
solid masonry remains to this day, brought copious 
streams of water to supply its numerous baths and 
fountains. Everywhere the cool refreshing spray 
and the soothing sounds of flowing water delighted 
the senses. Splendid villas in the midst of beauti- 
ful gardens adorned its suburbs; likewise pleasure 
groves and parks, which the people much frequented. 
Among the latter was the celebrated Grove of 
Daphne, described with such fullness by General 
Wallace in his famous work of fiction. It was dedi- 
cated to the worship of Apollo, was furnished with 
every enticement to the senses, and so rich in its 
enchantments that the saying arose concerning it: 
"Better be a worm and feed on the mulberries of 
Daphne than a King's guest." In the mixed popu- 
lation of this great city, "the impulsive oriental tem- 
perament was the most dominant. They abandoned 
themselves freely to those voluptuous recreations for 
which their city and climate afforded every facility 
and inducement. The bath, the circus, the chariot 
races and the theatre were their constant amuse- 
ments, and pursued by them with the eagerness of 
a pleasure-loving nature." 

In the time of Chrysostom, 100,000, or one half 
of the population, was nominally Christian. They 
embraced all degrees of strictness from the severest 
asceticism to almost pagan laxity. 

Such was the local environment, outside his home, 
amid which Chrysostom grew up and lived there in 
Antioch. 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

There was still another environment outside of 
this, which needs also to be considered if we would 
clearly understand the character and the life of 
Chry sos torn. It was the environment which the 
great Roman world afforded at that particular time. 
In the pages of Gibbon we read what the conditions 
of things then were. The Roman Empire was fast 
declining under those influences that brought it to 
its ultimate downfall. The stern virtue and dis- 
cipline which had brought the world under its sway 
having become relaxed, it was undergoing dissolu- 
tion through the joint operation of internal corrup- 
tion and external attack from the barbaric peoples 
that lay outside its borders. There was decay of 
every kind, decay of domestic virtue, decay of 
patriotism, decay of faith in the old religion before 
faith in the new Christianity was strong enough to 
take its place, decay in the power of law, decay of 
industry, decay of all the elements of security. We 
get glimpses in the pages of the historian of "a large 
mass of the population hovering midway between 
Paganism and Christianity; we detect an oppressive 
system of taxation; a widely spread venality in the 
administration of public business; a general inse- 
curity of life arising from the almost total absence 
of what we understand by police regulations; a 
depressed agriculture; a great slave population; a 
vast turbulent army as dangerous to the peace of 
society as the enemies from whom it was supposed 
to defend it; the presence of barbarians in the 
country as servants, soldiers or colonists; the con- 
stantly impending danger from other hordes ever 

34 



CHRYSOSTOM 

hovering on the frontier and like famished wolves 
gazing with hungry eyes on the plentiful prey which 
lay beyond it." 

The imperial authority, dependent for its support 
upon the favor of the army, was a perilous and pre- 
carious possession. Those who held it enjoyed their 
dignity at a tremendous price for themselves and 
their families. Murder lurked for them on every 
hand, and they often fell victims to it. In one of the 
writings of Chrysostom, his treatise de Virgini- 
tate, there is an impressive passage reviewing the 
tragical events and misfortunes that overtook the 
wearers of the imperial purple during the fifty years 
from 330 to 380. There were nine emperors during 
that time. Two only, out of the nine, died natural 
deaths. Of the other seven, one had been killed 
by a usurper, two fallen in battle, one slain in a 
sedition of his domestic guards, and one by the man 
who had invested him with the purple; one had died 
in a fit of rage, and one with his retinue had perished 
in the flames of a burning house to which the Goths 
had set fire. Of the widows of these emperors, 
some had perished by poison, others had died of 
despair and broken hearts. 

Against such miseries as these, how light and in- 
significant in the balance were all the wealth and 
power of the imperial office, and how unstable the 
condition of things in view of them! An appre- 
hension, or foreboding of something dreadful im- 
pending, pervaded the more serious and thoughtful 
portion of society and tinged with solemnity their 
speech and writings. We discover it in the sermons 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

of Chrysostom, and in the writings of Augustine 
and other Christian fathers. It was a condition of 
things, however, that stimulated the good and noble 
qualities of the great, as well as the corrupt and reck- 
less frivolity of the degraded. The great and the good 
seem indeed to have reached an extraordinary stature, 
as if society were like a rank soil fattened by cor- 
ruption, in which good plants and worthless weeds 
flourish alike with unusual vigor. This statement is 
borne out by a consideration of the remarkable men 
and women of that time. Contemporaneous with 
Chrysostom in the Church were Athanasius, Ambrose, 
Jerome, Augustine; in the State, Constantine the 
Great, Valentinian, Theodosius, and his son, Theo- 
dosius the Great; and among the distinguished 
women, besides Anthusa and Monica, were some of 
the most noble and saintly that the world has ever 
known. The Christian women indeed of that age 
surpassed the men in devotion to their religion. 
But for their strenuous opposition the Emperor 
Julian thought that his efforts to revive Paganism 
would have been successful. 

Chrysostom having such a mother, who lavished 
upon him all her wealth of love, grew up, amid the 
twofold environment described, to manhood un- 
stained by the vice for which Antioch was then 
notorious. As a child he was precocious; as a youth, 
diligent and ambitious of distinction. Under the 
instruction and training of Libanius, the rhetori- 
cian, he enriched his mind with classical learning, 
and with native powers of natural eloquence ac- 
quired the art of effective speech. Following the 

36 



CHRYSOSTOM 

wish of his father's family, as is supposed, he studied 
the profession of law and entered upon its practice 
with the most brilliant prospects. He made some 
pleas in the law court which received much public 
applause and won the praise of his master, Libanius. 
Of all Libanius' pupils he was the favorite, and to 
his dying day the old teacher mourned that the 
Christians had stolen John from them. For John 
did not like the profession of the law. To his pure 
and upright soul it seemed tarnished by chicanery 
and rapacity, and the gain it held out to him he 
abhorred as "the wages of the devil." 

Prepares for the Ministry 

The influences that led him to abandon his pro- 
fession of the law and at length enter upon that of 
the ministry were various. Chief among these was 
his friendship for a schoolmate, Basil, who after- 
wards became a bishop in the Catholic Church. 
"He accompanied me," says Chrysostom, "at all 
times; we engaged in the same studies and were 
instructed by the same teachers; as we went to our 
lectures or returned from them we were accustomed 
to take counsel together on the line of life it would be 
best to adopt." 

The molding influence of school friendships! 
Who can measure it, or how powerfully it shapes the 
destiny of those whose hearts are knit together by 
it? The friendship between Chrysostom and Basil, 
there at the school of Libanius in Antioch, reminds 
us of that between Professor Charles Hodge and 

37 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Bishop John Johns in their early college days at 
Princeton. There was the same invincible attach- 
ment, the same mutual admiration and the same 
molding power of each over the other, resulting in 
the greatest benefit to both. 

Basil decided upon a religious career and this 
decision separated him for a time from Chrysostom. 
But separation from his friend only increased Chrysos- 
tom's attachment to him and his discontent with 
his own profession. He began to withdraw from the 
worldly society about him and to give more of his 
time to the study of the Bible, which later in life, 
he said, was "the fountain for watering the soul." 
He sought the acquaintance of Meletius, the good 
and wise Bishop of Antioch, whose influence drew him 
in the same direction as Basil's friendship, and after 
a while induced him to receive baptism and accept 
the office of reader, then the initiatory' step to the 
Christian ministry. Entirely in accord now in their 
thoughts and purposes, the two friends were reunited 
and pursued with ardor the religious life agreed upon. 
But for his mother's entreaty "not to leave her a 
second time a widow," Chrysostom would have gone 
with his friend into a monastery. Denied this 
wish, he resolved, as far as possible, to live the life 
of a religious recluse at home. He adopted an 
ascetic diet and monastic discipline, and devoted 
himself with his friend to a life of prayer, intense 
study of the Scriptures and meditation. Diodorus, 
a friend of the good bishop Meletius, and prior of 
one of the monasteries near Antioch, directed their 
studies. Chrysostom as a preacher owed as much, 

38 



CHRYSOSTOM 

and possibly more, to the teaching of Diodorus than 
to that of Libanius. From Libanius he learned how 
to speak eloquently, from Diodorus he learned how to 
study the Bible whence he derived the substance of 
his speech. Diodorus in fact taught him the right 
method of exegesis, a method of literal common- 
sense interpretation of the Scriptures, like that of 
our English Bible scholars, in contrast to the alle- 
gorical and mystical interpretation characteristic of 
Origen and the Alexandrian School. He taught him 
also to view the truth of God's word in its relation 
to man's nature and needs, to see its practical 
applications, and to weave the stuff it afforded into 
garments suited to human wear in the various exe- 
gencies of life as they arise. 

Their great piety and gifts soon attracted the atten- 
tion of the Church to Chrysostom and his friend 
Basil, and, though so young, they were publicly 
spoken of as fit to be made bishops. According to 
the custom of that time they might any day be seized 
and compelled to accept the high office. So Augus- 
tine was dragged forcibly to the church, and ordained 
to the bishopric in spite of his protesting entreaties 
and tears. The two friends hearing what was in 
the air, were filled with apprehension and alarm, 
and agreed to act together, either to accept or evade 
together the unwelcome honor. Chrysostom, how- 
ever, broke his promise. When the officers of the 
Church came to seize them, he contrived to have 
Basil captured and made bishop while he himself 
hid away and escaped. To the subsequent re- 
proaches of his friend for having deceived him, he 

39 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

boldly answered that it was "an excusable fraud," 
which the good of the Church justified; and to soothe 
and reconcile him wrote a treatise on the "Priest- 
hood," showing its preeminent dignity, and declar- 
ing the peculiar fitness of Basil to discharge the 
duties of bishop. This questionable act is the only 
blot on the early name of Chrysostom. It seems, 
however, to have been in accord with the lax morality 
of his age. 

In a short time his mother died and he was free 
to indulge his wish to live in religious retirement 
from the world. Six years he thus spent in the 
seclusion of monastery and hermit's cell in the 
mountains to the south of Antioch. The day and 
the greater part of the night he spent in study, fast- 
ings and vigils. Bread and water formed his prin- 
cipal food. His zeal for the mortification of his 
fleshly appetite carried him to the extreme limit 
of asceticism. In fact, he injured his health and 
was obliged to return to the greater comfort of his 
former home in Antioch. 

About this time he was ordained a deacon by his 
much revered bishop, Meletius, who soon after died, 
to be succeeded by Flavian, under whose direction 
Chrysostom performed his diaconal functions. In 
that day deacons "were essentially, as the name im- 
plies, ministers or aids to the bishop, and were often 
styled the bishops 'eyes,' or 'ears,' or 'right hand." : 
Their duties consisted partly of service about the 
sanctuary in connection with the public worship, and 
services of relief among the sick and the poor in the 
parish. They were required to search out and bring 

40 



CHRYSOSTOM 

to the notice of the bishop cases of distress, to dis- 
tribute relief under his direction and to report to 
him moral and religious offenses. The office was a 
good training school for the ministry of the Gospel. 
During the five years that Chrysostom filled it, he 
labored with great zeal and activity, and stored 
his mind with a knowledge of human nature in its 
great diversity and variety, as displayed in the man- 
ners and practices of the people, that was of great 
value to him afterwards in his preaching. 

His Personal Qualities 

He possessed a keenly observant and discrimi- 
nating mind with a genial, kindly spirit and a power 
of sympathetic imagination that enabled him vividly 
to imagine with exactness and sympathy the cir- 
cumstances and scenes amid which men moved and 
lived. This is why he has ever been a favorite author 
with historians like Gibbon, and great preachers like 
Isaac Barrow and Cardinal Newman. They have 
found in his works the richest suggestions and most 
valuable matter suited to their purpose. He speaks 
and "writes," says Newman, "as one who was ever 
looking out with sharp but kindly eyes upon the 
world of men and their history, and hence he has al- 
ways something to produce about them, new or 
old, to the purpose of his argument. I speak of his 
versatile recognition of men one by one, for the sake 
of that portion of good which has severally been 
lodged in them; his eager contemplation of the 
many things they do, effect, or produce; of all their 

41 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

great works, as nations or as states; of the graphic 
fidelity with which he notes them down upon the 
tablets of his mind, and of the promptitude and pro- 
priety with which he calls them up as arguments or 
illustrations in the course of his teaching as the 
occasion requires." 

It was after such a long course of preparation, 
covering fifteen years of study in the schools of 
Libanius and Diodorus, and in the religious seclu- 
sion of the monastery and hermit's cell, and five 
years of practical training in the diaconate, in which 
he exercised his powers of observation to such good 
purpose, that he came at length upon the work of 
the ministry, being ordained presbyter by Bishop 
Flavian in 386, when he was in the fortieth year of 
his age. The course of preparation seems to have 
been long, but the work he was to do in the twenty 
years that remained of his life was great. Those 
twenty years were about evenly divided between 
the offices of preacher at Antioch and of Archbishop 
of Constantinople. Immediately after his ordination 
he was appointed by his bishop, Flavian, to preach 
in the principal church of the city where the bishop 
himself officiated. Chrysostom at once rose to the 
zenith of fame as a preacher, and for ten years his 
pulpit labors were incessant with no abatement of 
his popularity. 

His Great Eloquence 

"The people flocked to him," says Sozomen. "As 
often as he preached he carried them away one and 
all. They hung upon his words and could not have 

42 



CHRYSOSTOM 

enough of them. He held them spellbound to the 
end." So close and all-absorbing was the attention 
he commanded and so great the crowd that thronged 
the church to hear him, that pickpockets plied their 
trade right there in the church with great success. 

Let us try to get a true and clear conception of his 
personal appearance, manner, and qualities as a 
preacher. Like many men of commanding genius, 
Athanasius, John Wesley, Shleiermacher, Louis 
XIV, Bonaparte, he was little of stature, but 
of such dignity of bearing that he produced, as it 
were, an illusion of greatness. When he was speak- 
ing, especially, his witchery of speech made him 
often seem majestic, reminding one of what Boswell 
said of William Wilberforce: "I saw a mere shrimp 
of a man mount the platform, but as I listened he 
grew and grew until the shrimp became a whale." 
Chrysostom's diminutive stature was the less notice- 
able probably from the fact that he usually sat in 
a raised position when preaching, while the people 
stood, eagerly crowding as close as possible to him. 
He had a large bald head with a broad lofty forehead, 
deep-set piercing eyes, with a searching but benignant 
look, and an expressive mouth. That mouth from 
the epithet given him, "mouth of gold," was rich 
in tone and most opulent in expression. 

He possessed extraordinary fluency. A contem- 
porary compares it to the inexhaustible flow of the 
river Nile. And yet, as Cardinal Newman says: 

"It was not by the fertility of his imagination, nor 
the splendor of his diction that he gained the sur- 
name of the 'Mouth of Gold.'" His oratorical 

43 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

power was but the instrument by which he readily, 
gracefully, adequately expressed, expressed without 
effort and with felicity, the keen feelings, the living 
ideas, the earnest practical lessons which he had 
to communicate to his hearers. He spoke because 
his heart, his head, were brimful of things to speak 
about. His unrivaled charm, as that of every 
really eloquent man, lay in his singleness of purpose, 
his fixed grasp of aim, his noble earnestness. 

He combined in himself, as a study of his ser- 
mons shows, the excellencies of several preachers. 
He had the florid exuberance of Jeremy Taylor, the 
fire and vehemence of Savonarola, the declamatory 
splendor of Bossuet and the straightforward ear- 
nestness and practical good sense of John Wesley. 

He often displayed in speaking an eager and im- 
petuous spirit like that of a soldier rushing to battle. 
It was as if this son of a Roman soldier felt in him- 
self the martial spirit of his father urging him on. 
You seem to hear in his sentences the notes of the 
bugle sounding the charge of the Roman legions. 
A discriminating student of his life, himself a dis- 
tinguished orator and preacher, commenting on this 
characteristic of Chrysostom says: "There is some- 
thing martial in all real oratory; the attack, the 
earnest seizing of the situation, the amassing of the 
powers, the gathering of manifold forces and hurling 
them all with resistless strength against the foe — 
this oftentimes constitutes the movement of the 
real orator, and in Chrysostom's life there was this 
martial power, not only in his tongue but also in his 
achievements." 

44 



CHRYSOSTOM 

We here present to our readers one or two exam- 
ples, asking them to remember while they are lis- 
tening to or reading them, what a contemporary 
says of Summerfield's eloquence, that "every at- 
tempt thus to present the splendid effects of impas- 
sioned eloquence is like gathering up dew drops, 
which appear jewels and pearls on the grass, but run 
to water in the hand; the essence and the elements 
remain; but the grace, the sparkle, and the form are 
gone." 

Chrysostom enjoins it as a duty upon every Chris- 
tian to labor for the spiritual welfare of his fellow- 
men. He insists that "Neither poverty nor human 
station, nor business, nor family cares, nor bodily 
infirmity can exempt one from the obligation of this 
duty." "Say not," he says, "within thyself, I am 
a man of the world; I have a wife and children, these 
matters belong to the priests and the monks. The 
Samaritan in the parable did not say 'Where are 
the priests?' 'Where are the Pharisees?' 'Where are 
the Jewish authorities?' but seized the opportunity 
of doing a good deed, as if it were a great advantage. 
In like manner when you see anyone requiring 
bodily or spiritual care, say not within thyself, ' Why 
did not this, or that man attend to him?' But 
deliver him from his infirmity. If you find a piece 
of gold in your path you do not say, 'Why did not 
some other person pick it up?' but you eagerly antici- 
pate others by seizing it yourself. Even so in the 
case of your fallen brethren, consider that you have 
found a treasure in them and give the attention 
necessary for their wants." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Those who noisily crowded forward to the Lord's 
Table he thus admonishes: "Approach with fear 
and trembling, with fasting and prayer; not making 
an uproar, hustling and jostling one another; con- 
sider, O man, what kind of sacrifice thou art about 
to handle; consider that thou, who art dust and ashes, 
dost receive the body and blood of Christ." 

To those who would fain hurry away from the 
Eucharist before the service is done, he says : " What, 
when Christ is present, and the angels are standing 
by, and this awe-inspiring Table is spread before 
you, and your brethren are still partaking of the 
mysteries, will you hurry away?" 

Though his style is exuberant, it is rarely redun- 
dant; every word is a telling word. At times it is 
strikingly epigrammatic. Examples: "The fire of 
sin is great, but it is quenched by a few tears." 
"Pain was given because of sin, yet through pain 
sin is dissolved." "Riches are called possessions, 
that we may possess them, not be possessed by them." 
"You are master of much wealth; do not be a slave 
to that whereof God has made you master." " Scrip- 
ture relates the sins of saints, that we may fear; the 
conversion of sinners, that we may hope." 

He held a rational Scriptural theology — an im- 
portant condition of success for the preacher. He 
taught that "Man fell through his own indolent 
negligence; but his nature was not thereby essen- 
tially changed, it was only weakened." "Evil is 
not an integral part of man, it is not an inherent 
substantial force." "There is no constraint either 
to holiness or to sin; neither does God compel to the 

46 



CHRYSOSTOM 

one, nor do the fleshly appetites compel to the 
other." "It is the moral purpose that is perverted 
when men sin. The whole burden of responsibility 
in sin must be thrown on the moral purpose." "If 
man's will was not unfettered, there would be no 
merit in goodness and no blame in evil." "We do 
not try to alter that which is by nature; sin, there- 
fore, is not by nature, because by means of educa- 
tion, laws and punishments we do not seek to alter 
that. Though sin is not a part of man's nature, .his 
nature is readily inclined to evil. But this tendency 
may be controlled by a healthy moral purpose." 

While he thus insists upon the freedom of man's 
will and his actual responsibility for his conduct, 
Chrysostom also asserts human insufficiency to 
accomplish good without the divine assistance. He 
describes the power of sin over the heart in the 
strongest terms: "It is a heavy burden, more 
oppressive than lead; it is more terrible than a 
demon, it is a great demon; it is like fire. When 
once it has got hold on the thoughts of the heart, 
if it is not quenched, it spreads further and further, 
and becomes increasingly difficult to subdue." 
"Christ saw us perishing under the power of sin 
and He took compassion on us. His redemption 
plan embraces all, but it constrains no one. His 
purpose is limited by man's freedom of choice. 
God's election is not compulsory but persuasive. 
Only they who are drawn and taught by the Father 
can come to Christ; but away with the pretense 
that those who are not thus drawn and taught are 
emancipated from blame; for this very thing, the 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

being led and taught, depends on their own moral 
choice." He maintains the equal divinity and 
distinct personality of the Holy Ghost. He main- 
tains also both the humanity and the divinity of 
Christ. "Our nature could not have been elevated 
to the divine, if the Savior had not really partaken 
of it; neither could He have brought help to our race 
if He had appeared in the unveiled glory of His 
God-head; for man would have perished at the 
brightness of His presence." 

In regard to the divinity of Christ and his con- 
tinued presence and activity in the world, he holds 
the most orthodox opinions. 

In his "Homilies against the Arians," he thus 
speaks of the obstacles overcome by Christianity 
and the proof which the wonderful successes of the 
Church afford as to the divinity of the founder of 
it: "In a short space of time Christianity had 
abolished ancestral customs, plucked up deeply- 
rooted habits, overturned altars and temples, caused 
unclean rites and ceremonials to vanish away. The 
customs abolished were not only venerated but pleas- 
ant; yet these were abandoned for a religion which 
substituted fasting for enjoyment, poverty for money 
getting, temperance for lasciviousness, meekness 
for wrath, benevolence for ill-will. Men, enervated 
by luxury and accustomed to the broad way, had 
been converted into the narrow, rugged path by 
multitudes under the whole heaven. These mighty 
results had been wrought by a few unlearned, obscure 
men, without rank, without money, without elo- 
quence. And all this in the teeth of opposition 

48 



CHRYSOSTOM 

of the most varied kind. Yet in spite of persecu- 
tion and the disruption of social ties, the new faith 
flourished. How contrary to the common course 
of events, that He who was despised, weak and put 
to an ignominious death, should now be honored 
and adored in all regions of the earth! Emperors, 
who have made laws and altered the constitution 
of States, who have ruled nations by their nod, in 
whose hands was the power of life and death, pass 
away; their images are in time destroyed, their 
actions forgotten, their adherents despised, their 
very names buried in oblivion, present grandeur suc- 
ceeded by nothingness. In the case of Jesus Christ 
all is reversed. During his lifetime all seemed 
failure and degredation, but a career of glory and 
triumph succeeded his death. How could such un- 
precedented marvels have come to pass but through 
the divine power and in obedience to that *word of 
God which is creative of actual results? Just as 
when he said, 'Let the earth bring forth grass,' the 
wilderness became a garden, so when the expression 
of his purpose had gone forth, 'I will build my 
church, ' straightway the process began, and though 
tyrants and people, sophists and orators, custom and 
religion had been arrayed against it, yet the word, 
going forth like fire, consumed the thorns, and 
scattered the good seed over the purified soil." 

The most memorable occurrence that happened 
during the ten years of Chrysostom's pastorate 
in Antioch was the "Riot of the Statues," in 387 
A. D. It arose in this way: In the following year 
of 388 A. D., the emperor, Theodosius the Great, 

49 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

would celebrate the tenth anniversary of his own 
reign, and the fifth of that of Arcadius, his son, 
whom he had associated with himself in the empire. 
The army on such occasions claimed a donative of 
five gold pieces to each soldier. To raise the con- 
siderable amount thus required, Theodosius made 
a special levy upon the great cities. The edict 
which proclaimed the levy made upon Antioch, 
produced there a great outcry of discontent. The 
men openly uttered their complaints, and the women 
loudly lamented the hardship and ruin thus imposed 
on the city. A crowd gathered, which soon became a 
riotous mob and committed various acts of violence. 
The rioters rushed to the pretorium and forced their 
way to the governor's audience room demanding an 
abrogation or abatement of the levy. The governor 
was not there; but they were confronted by the 
statues of the imperial family set up there to give 
dignity to the place. A momentary awe checked 
and subdued them to silence, until a boy in the 
crowd hurled a stone at one of the statues by which 
it was shattered. The spell of reverence was thus 
broken, and the mob was emboldened to other acts 
of vandalism, until the different images of the Em- 
peror and his father and the beloved Empress, who 
had recently died, were thrown down, dragged in the 
streets and mutilated. Soon their rage spent itself 
and then there came a revulsion of terror and dismay. 
Such acts of insult to the imperial family were treason 
of the worst kind. The Emperor, though a nominal 
Christian and man of noble qualities, possessed a 
quick and ungovernable temper. In his paroxysms 

50 



CHRYSOSTOM 

of rage he showed no mercy. He might pardon the 
insult done to himself, but he was not likely to for- 
give that done to his noble father and his beloved 
wife, Flacilla, for whose recent loss his heart was still 
sore. A vision of direful retribution, of destruction 
and slaughter, such as was to befall Thessalonica 
three years later through the rage of Theodosius, 
arose before the mental sight of the terror-stricken 
city, and the people gave themselves up to feelings 
of anguish and despair. In this emergency the 
power of Christianity to soothe, control, comfort, 
and encourage was signally displayed. The aged 
bishop, Flavian, hastened in the depth of winter 
to Constantinople to intercede with the wrathful 
Emperor in behalf of the offending city, and Chrys- 
ostom, meanwhile, day after day, addressed the 
people who thronged to hear him speak upon the 
requirements of the situation. It was his oppor- 
tunity to turn them to God, and he faithfully im- 
proved it. His eloquence sounded through the whole 
gamut of encouragement and persuasion. His words 
fell upon their anxious souls like the rays of the 
sun upon the darkness of night, by which the morn- 
ing cometh. He urges them to a hearty repentance 
of their sin. He wrestles to win their souls; he con- 
vinces them of their past follies; he leads them to 
hope in God. Thus he saves them, whatever the 
Emperor might do. When Flavian returns at the 
end of some weeks with the imperial forgiveness, 
he finds the city chastened and purified, and three 
thousand converts ready for baptism. During his 
absence Chrysostom's preaching had infused in 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

them a new spirit and life. It had proved itself a 
marvelous power to control and calm the seething 
vortex of passion. It had accomplished more to tran- 
quilize and correct the city than many legions of sol- 
diers would have done. 

These sermons, relating to the "Riot of the Stat- 
ues," have been preserved for us by the shorthand 
reporters of that time, probably revised by the 
preacher and published subsequently by his consent. 
We are privileged to read careful translations of 
them. They may be found in the ninth volume of 
"The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers.'' 

In them the eloquence of Chrysostom probably 
reached the high-water mark. We are tempted to 
quote some passages from them, in spite of the 
peril of excess and the certain danger of utterly 
failing to give any true idea of the eloquence of the 
preacher in the absence of that unreportable per- 
sonal charm so essential to the impression. 

He thus describes the change produced in Antioch 
when the fear and dread of the Emperor's wrath 
had smitten it with silence and solitude: "Aforetime 
there was nothing happier than our city; now noth- 
ing is more melancholy than it has become. As 
bees buzzing around their hives, so before this, the 
inhabitants flitted daily about the forum, and all 
pronounced us happy in being so numerous. But 
behold, that hive hath now become solitary; for 
even as smoke drives away the bees, so hath fear 
dispersed our swarms. . . . They desert it as if 
it were a dungeon; they leap out of it as out of a fire. 
. . Our calamity has become an enigma — a 

52 



CHRYSOSTOM 

flight without enemies; an expulsion of inhabitants 
without a battle. . . . We have not seen the 
watch fires of barbarians nor beheld the face of 
enemies; yet we suffer what those do who have so 
been smitten. . . . There is a silence big with 
horror. Loneliness is everywhere. That dear hum 
of the multitude is stifled; and even as though we 
had gone under the earth, speechlessness hath taken 
possession of the town, while all men seem as stones. 
. . . For he who has been insulted hath not his 
equal in dignity upon earth. . . . On this 
account, then, let us take refuge in the King who 
is above. Him let us call to our aid." 

Of what gives dignity to a city he says: "Learn 
what the dignity of a city is, and then thou wilt see 
clearly that if the inhabitants thereof do not betray 
it, no one else can take away its honor. Dost thou 
wish to learn the dignity of this city? I will tell it 
exactly, not that thou mayest know it merely, but 
that thou mayest emulate it also. This it is: 'It 
came to pass that the disciples were first called 
Christians at Antioch.' Dost thou wish to hear 
further of another dignity belonging to this city? A 
grievous famine was once approaching, and the 
inhabitants of Antioch determined, as each had the 
means, to send relief to the saints at Jerusalem. 
. . . They also sent Paul and Barnabas to Jeru- 
salem, and cautioned the apostles to provide that 
pure doctrine should be distributed over the world. 
This is the dignity of this city. This makes it a 
metropolis, not in the earth only, but as related to 
the heavens. ... I have heard many saying 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

in the Forum: 'Alas for thee, Antioch! What hath 
befallen thee ?' When I heard, I smiled at the puerile 
spirit, which gave vent to such words. When thou 
seest men dancing, drunken, singing, blaspheming, 
perjuring themselves, lying, then use such words as 
these: 'Alas for thee, O city! What hath befallen 
thee?' But if thou seest the Forum containing 
meek, modest, temperate persons, even though they 
be few, then pronounce the city blessed. When 
you wish to extol it; tell me not of the suburb of 
Daphne, nor of the height and multitude of its cy- 
presses, nor of its flowing fountains of waters; nor 
of the great population which inhabits the town, 
nor of the safety of its markets and the abundance 
of its wares. But, if you can, speak of virtue, meek- 
ness, almsgiving, nightly visions, prayers, sobriety, 
true wisdom of soul, for these things commend the 
city." 

He thus commends the example of Nineveh to 
Antioch, as worthy of its imitation. "Thus was that 
city agitated when it heard the prophet's voice, but 
instead of being injured, it was benefited by fear, 
for that fear became the cause of its safety. The 
threatening effected the deliverance from peril; the 
sentence of overthrow put a stop to the overthrow. 
. . . They did not flee from the city as we are 
doing, but remaining in it they caused it to stand. 
They fled not from their buildings, but from their 
sins. . . . They trusted for safety not to a 
change of habitations, but to a change of habits." 

He puts into the mouth of their good bishop 
Flavian, interceding in their behalf, this appeal to 

54 



CHRYSOSTOM 

the offended Emperor: "Were your statues thrown 
down? You have it in your power to set up others 
more splendid. If you remit the offenses of those 
who have done you this injury, and take not revenge 
on them, they will erect a statue to you, not in the 
forum, of brass or of gold, or inlaid with gems, but 
one arrayed in that robe, which is more precious 
then anything material, of clemency and tender 
mercy. Every man will thus exalt you within his 
own soul ; and you will have as many statues as there 
are men who inhabit, or who hereafter shall inhabit, 
the entire world." 

He thus exhorts them to find in the bee a good 
model for their imitation: "Whilst from the ant 
thou learnest industry, take from the bee a lesson 
at once of industry, and of mutual helpfulness. For 
it is not more for herself than for us that the bee 
labors and is every day weary; which is a thing 
especially proper for a Christian, not to seek his 
own things only, but the things of others. As, then, 
she traverses the meadows, that she may provide 
a banquet for another, so also do thou, O man. If 
thou hast accumulated wealth, expend it upon 
others. If thou hast the faculty of teaching, bury 
not the talent, but bring it forth publicly for those 
who need it. If thou hast any other special endow- 
ment, become useful by it to those who need the 
fruit of thy labor. Seest thou not that for this 
very reason the bee is more honored than other 
insects — not because she labors merely, but because 
she labors for others? For the spider also labors, 
and spreads his fine textures upon the walls, sur- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

passing the utmost skill of women; but he is still 
without estimation, since his work is no way profit- 
able to us. Such are they who labor and are weary, 
but only for themselves." 

He thus touches upon the folly of the passion for 
riches: "A covetous man is one thing; a rich man is 
quite another. A covetous man is never rich. He 
is in want of many things, and while he needs so 
many things he cannot be rich. A covetous man is 
a keeper, not a master, of wealth; its slave, not its 
lord. He would sooner give one a portion of his 
flesh than of his hidden gold. As though he were 
ordered and constrained by some one to touch noth- 
ing of these concealed treasures, with all diligence 
he keeps them, abstaining from his own as if it were 
another's. Yet, indeed, they are not his own; for 
what he can neither determine to bestow upon others, 
nor yet to distribute to the needy, though in con- 
sequence he encounter punishment, how can he 
possibly count that his own? . . . Abraham 
was rich, but he was not covetous. . . . This 
man let us imitate, beloved. His lodging was rude, 
but it was more distinguished than kingly saloons. 
No king has entertained angels; but he, dwelling 
under an oak, and having only briefly pitched his 
tent there, was thought worthy of that honor; not 
receiving the honor on account of the meanness of 
his abode, but enjoying the benefit on account 
of the magnificence of it and the riches that 
were therein laid up. Let us adorn our souls 
before our houses. What doth thy house profit 
thee, O man? Wilt thou take it with thee when 

56 



CHRYSOSTOM 

thou departest? But thy soul thou shalt surely 
carry with thee." 

Speaking of the visible universe, he says: "Seest 
thou its greatness? Seest thou its beauty? Marvel 
at the power of Him who made it, at the wisdom 
which adorned it. This it was which the prophet 
signified when he said: "The heavens declare the 
glory of God.' How, then, tell me, do they declare 
it? Voice they have none; mouth they possess not; 
no tongue is theirs; how then do they declare? By 
means of the spectacle itself. For when thou seest 
the beauty, the breadth, the height, the position, 
the form, the stability thereof during so long a 
period, being instructed by the spectacle, thou 
adorest him who created a body so fair and strange. 
The heavens may be silent, but the sight of them 
emits a voice that is louder than a trumpet's sound, 
instructing us not by the ear, but through the eyes. 
. . . Upon this volume the unlearned as well as 
the wise man shall be able to look, the poor man as 
well as the rich man, and wherever any one may 
chance to come, there looking upwards towards the 
heavens, he will receive a sufficient lesson from the 
view of them." 

After various admonitions of this sort, he adds: 
"Say these things to others, and observe them 
yourselves. I know that in this place (i. e. the 
church) we become more reverent, and lay aside 
our evil habits (as profanity and slander). But 
what is to be desired is this, that we depart taking 
this reverence with us to where we especially need 
it. For those who carry water do not seek merely 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

to have their vessels full when they are near the 
fountain, and then empty them when they reach 
home; but they set them down there with particular 
care, lest they be overturned, and their labor become 
useless. Let us imitate this process, and when we 
reach home let us strictly retain what has here been 
spoken; since, if ye have here gotten full, but return 
empty to your houses, having the vessels of your 
understanding there destitute of what here you have 
heard, there will be for you no advantage from your 
present replenishment. Show me religion, not at 
the season, but in the time of personal practice." 

These quotations will suffice to show the remark- 
able qualities of the man and his deserved eminence. 
What powers of creative inagination and of original 
thought! What affluence of mind in beautiful and 
suggestive ideas pertinent to his theme and strength- 
ening his argument! Not only was the flow of his 
words like that of the Nile, inexhaustible, but his 
mind like the Nile was charged with richness, which 
it dropped in its progress all along its course, for 
the fertilization of truth to the production of har- 
vests of virtue. 

A study of his sermons and of their effect gives the 
impression that Chrysostom was not only a great 
preacher for the age in which he lived, but one of the 
greatest of all the Christian centuries. In this 
opinion we are confirmed by the judgment of the 
late Dr. R. S. Storrs, who says that "among the 
great preachers of the world he held nearly, if not 
quite, the foremost place. I have read many ser- 
mons of Augustine and Gregory, not a few of the 

58 



CHRYSOSTOM 

great medieval preachers, from Bernard of Clair- 
vaux to John Tanler; a goodly number from Bos- 
suet, Massillon and other famous preachers of France, 
with many of the English pulpit, from Taylor and 
South to Robert Hall, Newman, Liddon and the 
others, with our own Phillips Brooks, and I do not 
know, for myself, where to find certainly the supe- 
rior, in this special function, of this presbyter in 
Antioch, fifteen hundred years ago." 

A remarkable thing about the sermons of Chrysos- 
tom is their undecayed, enduring vitality. They are 
not dry and lifeless like the specimens of an her- 
barium, to which old sermons are often compared, 
and justly, for their lack of interest to a present-day 
reader. "His words," says Dr. Storrs, "were 
living things; they are so still. There is a marvel- 
ous modernness in his sermons. No man can read 
them after so many ages without feeling that he 
who shot these shafts lived by the faith of the Son 
of God." 

The good such a ministry wrought in ten years 
there in Antioch cannot be estimated. It was 
simply immense, and stamped with God's manifest 
approval. Chrysostom became more and more 
the pride of the city as the fame of his eloquence 
extended abroad. In 397 A. D. at the death of 
Nectarius, the Archbishop of Constantinople, he 
was appointed his successor. The Eunuch, Eutro- 
pius, the prime-minister of Arcadius, had heard him 
in Antioch some years before, and believing that he 
would add luster to the eastern capital and be found 
subservient to his wishes, he persuaded the emperor 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

to place him in that high ecclesiastical position. 
The place was not of Chrysostom's seeking; indeed 
had it been openly offered him, he would have shrunk 
from the responsible charge, as in his young man- 
hood he had shrunk from and evaded being made a 
bishop. But the option now was not given him, 
any more than it had been given in those early 
years to his friend Basil. Knowing that the people 
of Antioch would not willingly give up their favorite 
preacher, Eutropius got him away by stratagem. 
He sent word to Asterius, the imperial governor of 
Antioch, to invite Chrysostom to visit a martyr's 
shrine with him just outside the city. Well pleased 
to make the pious pilgrimage the preacher unwit- 
tingly accepted the invitation. At the holy shrine 
he was seized by imperial officers and in spite of his 
remonstrances hurried off by an escort of soldiers 
to Constantinople, and forcibly ordained to the 
Patriarchate of the Eastern Church. 

The dignity to which he was thus summoned 
and in which he was installed by envious ecclesias- 
tics was not a bed of roses. It was, in fact, a bed of 
thorns to him. He was too little of a courtier and 
too much of a saint to find it otherwise. The view 
of Eutropius and of the Emperor of the nature and 
obligations of the sacred office was much different 
from that of Chrysostom. They looked upon it as 
an ecclesiastical appendage to the court, and be- 
lieved that the archbishop should be servile and 
pliant to the behests of the court. He, on the other 
hand, held that Christ alone was his Master; that he 
should aim chiefly to please him; that it was in- 

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CHRYSOSTOM 

cumbent upon him as a faithful shepherd to watch 
over the spiritual welfare of the flock committed to 
his care; to rebuke sin and vice wherever found; to 
be uncompromising in his assertion of the para- 
mount claims and obligations of religion upon all 
alike, the high and low, rich and poor, those who 
dwelt in palaces as well as those who lived in the 
meanest hovels. 

So sharply differing, it was inevitable that ere 
long he should come into collision with the court 
and its pampered minions. At first, however, 
everything seemed fair and lovely. The eloquence 
that had charmed his hearers in Antioch was greeted 
with admiration and applause in Constantinople, 
and for a short time he enjoyed the highest minis- 
terial success and popularity. The Emperor and the 
empress performed with zeal the religious observ- 
ances he recommended. At his suggestion a pil- 
grimage on foot was made by night to the shrine of a 
martyr located a considerable distance from the city. 
Those who engaged in it formed a vast torch-light 
procession, led by the archbishop and the Empress 
and her court. Chrysostom was in raptures at such 
docile and exemplary piety, and expressed his satis- 
faction in a laudatory discourse when they reached 
the shrine at dawn of day. 

"Of what shall I most discourse?" he exclaimed. 
"The virtue of the martyrs, the alacrity of the city, 
the zeal of the Empress, the concourse of the nobles, 
the worsting of the devils? Women more delicate 
than wax, leaving their comfortable homes, emulated 
the stoutest men in the eagerness with which they 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

made this long pilgrimage on foot. Nobles, leaving 
their chariots, their lictors, their attendants, mingled 
in the common crowd. And she, who wears the 
diadem and is arrayed in purple, has not consented 
along the whole route to be separated from the rest. 
The procession moved along like a stream of fire, or 
a continuous golden chain; the moon shone down 
upon the crowd of the faithful, and in the midst was 
the Empress, more brilliant than the moon itself, 
for what was the moon compared to a soul adorned 
with such faith?" 

Only for a little while did this mutual admiration 
continue. As Chrysostom became accustomed to 
his new position and more familiar with the faults 
and sins of those to whom he ministered, and as he 
strove to correct them by rebukes and remon- 
strances, then coolness and estrangement, and at 
last bitter enmity arose. He found many of the 
clergy to be worldly, and indulging in practices that 
dishonored religion. Attempting to reform them, 
he incurred their hate and the hate of those who 
wanted religious guides that would not reprove 
them for sin. 

Many Christians were passionately fond of the 
circus and the theatre, and indulged their liking for 
them to the neglect of religion, the loss of all 
spirituality and the leading astray of others. On 
Good Friday, near the end of the first year of Chrys- 
ostom's episcopate, they forsook the church and 
its solemn service for those places of amusement. 
On the next Sunday, having remarked upon the 
impiety of such conduct, he thus called to account 



CHRYSOSTOM 

each guilty offender: "What defence will you be 
able to make when you have to render an account 
of that day's work? For thee the sun rose, the 
moon lit up the night, choirs of stars spangled the 
sky; for thee the winds blew and rivers ran, seeds 
germinated, plants grew, and the whole course of 
nature kept in proper order; but thou, when crea- 
tion is ministering to thy needs, thou fulfillest the 
pleasure of the devil. Say not that few have 
wandered from the fold. Though it be only one, 
yet it is a soul for which this visible world was created, 
for which laws and statutes and the diverse opera- 
tions of God have been put in motion, yea, for whose 
sake God spared not His only Son. Therefore I 
loudly declare that if anyone after this admonition 
shall desert the fold for the pestilent vice of the 
theatre, I will not administer to him the holy mys- 
teries or allow him to touch the holy table, but will 
expell him as shepherds drive out the diseased sheep 
from the fold, lest they should contaminate the rest." 
Such severity toward sin and vice and worldly 
amusements aroused hate and opposition. He 
added to these the dislike of the court by his own 
austerity. His predecessor, Nectarius, used to fre- 
quent the court, and to give grand entertainments 
to the nobles and high officers, and indulged him- 
self in luxurious habits of living. Chrysostom, 
always simple and abstemious in his habits, usually 
ate in solitude, and refused to set foot at court except 
upon business of the Church. He would not flatter 
the great by entertaining them, nor would he adorn 
their feasts. Thus he gradually fell out with the 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

reat court officers, with the Empress Eudoxia, 
and with the worldly clergy, though he warmly 
attached to himself the common people, and the 
saintly men and women of every class. 

Eutropius, the prime minister, vexed at not 
finding him subservient to his wishes, showed his 
resentment by depriving St. Sophia of its ancient 
right of asylum. But by the irony of fate, he him- 
self was the first to need that asylum, and Chrysos- 
tom generously asserted and obtained it for him, 
when disgraced and thrown from power because of 
the enmity of Eudoxia. Chrysostom, ruled by 
the instinct of a preacher, could not refrain from 
improving the occasion to impress an important 
lesson. On the day following the minister's downfall, 
which was Sunday, when the great church of St. 
Sophia was thronged with an eager, expectant con- 
gregation, suddenly the curtain that separated the 
nave from the chancel, was partly drawn aside and 
disclosed to the view of the multitude the cowering 
form of the wretched Eutropius clinging to one of 
the columns which supported the holy table. Then 
Chrysostom pointing to him as a visible example of 
fallen grandeur exclaimed: "Where now are the 
pomp and circumstance of yonder man's office? 
Where his torch-light festivities? Where the ap- 
plause which once greeted him? Where the stir 
that attended his approach in the streets, the 
flattering compliments paid him in the amphi- 
theatre? They are gone, all gone! One rude blast 
has shattered all the leaves, and shows us the tree 
stripped quite bare and shaken to its very roots. 

64 



CHRYSOSTOM 

These things were but as shadows which flitted away, 
as bubbles which burst, as cobwebs which rent. 
Therefore we chant this heavenly strain: 'Vanity 
of vanities, all is vanity.' For these are words 
which should be inscribed on our walls and on our 
garments, in the market place, by the wayside, on 
our doors, above all in the conscience and engraved 
upon the mind of everyone." As showing the pro- 
tecting power of the Church and illustrating the 
wholesome truths of religion, the suppliant was an 
ornament to the altar. The spectacle of one lately 
at the pinnacle of power now crouching with fear 
like a hare or a frog, chained to yonder pillar not 
by fetters but by fright, would repress arrogance, 
and subdue pride, and teach them the truth of the 
Scripture: "All flesh is grass, and all the glory of 
man as the flower of grass." 

The fall of Eutropius but increased the pride of 
Eudoxia. She ruled the weak-minded emperor, 
and through him the affairs of state. But she could 
not rule Chrysostom, nor make him connive at her 
sins. If she committed an offense against morals 
and religion, he censured her like any other offender. 
At this she grew first cool, and then furious at the 
preacher. She was to Chrysostom what Jezebel 
was to Elijah, or Herodias to John the Baptist, and 
both of these epithets he is said (but without good 
proof) to have bestowed upon her. Through her 
influence his path was more and more thorny. His 
enemies, having her countenance, plotted his de- 
struction. Theophilus, Archbishop of Alexandria, 
took the lead, having associated with him a disrep- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

utable crowd of bishops and ecclesiastics whom 
Chrysostom had mortally offended by his rebukes 
and discipline for their corrupt practices. They 
gathered in a synod, in a suburb of Chalcidon, at a 
place called "The Oak," and there this "Synod of the 
Oak" framed charges against Chrysostom and sum- 
moned him to appear before them and make answer 
to the indictment. The charges were false, or ab- 
surd, but as there was no probability of his having 
a fair trial before such a tribunal, Chrysostom 
refused to appear before them and was condemned 
for contumacy. The synod decreed that he should 
be deposed from his office and called upon the Em- 
peror to execute the decree. He, ruled by Eudoxia, 
performed their bidding, and Chrysostom was se- 
cretly arrested and hurried away into exile. 

When the people of the city learned of the ban- 
ishment of their beloved preacher, great was their 
indignation and loud their cry for his return. "Bet- 
ter that the sun cease to shine," they said, "than 
that our Chrysostom's mouth should be stopped." 
And they crowded the approaches to the imperial 
palace as they pressed their demand. Heaven 
itself seemed to second the demand. An earth- 
quake occurred which shook the city, and violently 
rocked the very bed on which the Empress slept. 
Terrified at what she thought a manifestation of 
the wrath of heaven she added her voice to that of 
the people for Chrysostom's recall, and even wrote 
a letter entreating his return. "I remember the 
baptism of my children by thy hands," she said. 
"God whom I serve is witness of my tears." Re- 

66 



CHRYSOSTOM 

called in haste, he returned to Constantinople in 
triumph amid the joyous acclamations of the people. 

But the peace made with him by the Empress 
proved to be only a hollow truce. In her heart 
she hated him still, and was ready to break with him 
at the first opportunity. As there can be no con- 
cord betwixt Christ and Belial, it inevitably came 
very soon. The occasion was the erection of a 
statue of the Empress before the Church of St. 
Sophia, inaugurated with heathenish ceremony, 
which Chrysostom condemned. Fierce was her 
resentment when the report of his censure was 
brought to her, and from that time she relentlessly 
pursued him until his death. He was exiled again 
after a few months to Cucusus, a lonely mountain 
town on the borders of Cilicia. Hearing that he was 
cheered there by visits, letters, and gifts from his 
faithful friends, the implacable Empress had him 
removed thence by brutal soldiers to Pityus on the 
Caucasus, the most dreary spot in the empire. The 
journey with its hardships and privations was too 
much for his feeble body; he died on the way, 
September 14, 407, in his sixtieth year, his last 
words being: "Glory to God for all things," ex- 
pressive of the sweetness of his spirit and the resig- 
nation with which he bore his sufferings. 

Thirty years after his death, the relics of Chrysos- 
tom were brought back with great pomp to Constan- 
tinople at the command of the then reigning Em- 
peror, Theodosius II, the son of Eudoxia. When 
they were deposited in the church appointed to 
receive them, the Emperor kneeling humbly and 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

reverently above the reliquary, implored forgive- 
ness for the injuries which his parents had done to 
the saint whose ashes it held. That kneeling 
Emperor typifies well the attitude of the Christian 
world toward the illustrious saint. He is numbered 
among the four great Fathers of the Christian 
Church by both the Greek and the Roman branches 
of it; he is extolled for the impartial purity and in- 
corruptible integrity of his episcopal rule as well as 
for his surpassing eloquence, and spoken of generally 
with great respect by those held in highest honor. 
Great historians, like Gibbon and Milman, and great 
scholars and preachers, like Isaac Barrow, J. H. New- 
man and R. S. Storrs have been enthusiastic students 
of his works and admirers of his character. 

There are few men in the history of the world 
whose names are more deservedly illustrious. To 
be forever a good example of faithfulness to duty 
and of noble Christian character, to continue 
through many centuries to be an instructor and 
inspirer of mankind by one's imperishable utterances, 
to have them the delight and nourishing food of 
successive generations of scholars and preachers — 
there are few achievements of men equal to this. 
In the firmament of the past on which the names of 
men of all degrees of greatness and glory are em- 
blazoned, this man appears, therefore, as a star of 
the first magnitude, whose light neither the gathering 
mists of time nor the darkness of oblivion, which 
soon or late hides from human gaze most of those 
stars in the sky, can dim or quench. It remains a 
splendid beneficent beacon light for all time. 

68 . 



Ill 

BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 



Ill 

BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

Among the great preachers whose names shed 
splendor upon the Christian faith, Bernard of 
Clair vaux holds a very high place. No name 
stood higher in the Christian world in the age in 
which he appeared, and since his death his fame 
has lingered down to the present time like a beauti- 
ful afterglow from his immense reputation and 
influence with his contemporaries. This long 
lingering splendor is a sure proof of his real great- 
ness. Only the true giants among men, as well 
as the giants among mountains, retain so long the 
halo of glory that attracts the wondering gaze of 
the world. In influence he ranks next to Augustine 
in the history of Latin Christianity, whose scholars 
and ecclesiastics affectionately speak of him as 
"the last of the Fathers." 

Born in 1091, in the last decade of the 11th 
century, his childhood was cradled and largely 
passed amid the intense excitement and religious 
enthusiasm created by the first crusade, in which 
his father, Tescelin, a noble knight and vassal of 
the great Duke of Burgundy, was engaged, and 
lost his life. His mother, Aletta or Alethe, a woman 
of rare beauty of character and of deep piety, con- 
secrated him on his birthday with passionate de- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

votion to a religious life. This consecration held 
him fast in spite of the strong allurements of arms 
in that warlike age, or of study, to the charm of 
which he was deeply sensible. 

From both parents Bernard inherited rare quali- 
ties. From his father, Tescelin, masculine courage, 
energy and a martial spirit, united with a sobriety 
of judgment and magnanimity of mind that fitted 
him for leadership; from his mother, Aletta, — be- 
sides elegance of person, beauty of features, a radi- 
ant countenance and gracious manners, — a love of 
nature that amounted to a passion, an affectionate, 
tender, spirit and ardent religious sensibilities. 
"To her he owed it, under God," says Dr. Storrs, 
"that while strong with the strongest, he was im- 
passioned and fond as the most ardent woman, and 
it was her spirit in him which sighed and sorrowed, 
or rose to summits of Christian triumph." (R. S. 
Storrs, D.D., "Bernard of Clair vaux.") 

He was as happy in his place of birth in the neigh- 
borhood of Dijon, the capital city of Burgundy, as 
in his parentage. "The skies of Burgundy," says 
the historian, "judging from the illustrious peo- 
ple it has produced, have for centuries ripened 
wits as well as wines." Besides Bernard and the 
illustrious warriors and churchmen of his own and 
earlier times that shed their luster upon it, there 
is a splendid galaxy of names belonging to more 
recent epochs. Bossuet was born there, and Buff on, 
and Madam de Sevigne and Lamartine; and there 
originated the order of the Golden Fleece, insti- 
tuted three centuries after Bernard for the glory 

72 



BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

of Knighthood and of the Church, representing 
in name at least, the wealth and the warmth of the 
prosperous province. 

In his father's Castle of Fontaines, the third son 
in a family of six sons and a daughter, Bernard 
grew up amid the choicest influences and the highest 
social advantages that the times could give. While 
he was yet a child his father was taken from him, 
and the care and responsibility of his training 
devolved on his mother. She deeply impressed 
the stamp of her own spiritual character upon him. 
"If ever a mother's wish and prayer and Christian 
counsel determined the character and career of a 
son," says Dr. Storrs, "those of the mother of 
Bernard determined his. After her death, which 
occurred while he was still a youth, her image re- 
mained vividly with him. He remembered her 
words and meditated affectionately on her plans 
for himself." For a little time, as he was just enter- 
ing manhood, he seemed to turn away from those 
plans and to be drawn by the example of two older 
brothers to a martial career, upon which they had 
entered. The martial spirit, which he had inherited 
from his father, and the spirit of the times impelled 
him that way. But his mother's memory brought 
him back to the religious life to which she had dedi- 
cated him. The story of his conversion is interesting : 
"He was riding toward the camp of the Duke of 
Burgundy, to join his brothers who were already 
there, when the image of his mother, disappointed 
and reproving, took possession of his mind. He 
retired to a church by the roadside to pray, and 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

from that hour his course was determined and his 
purpose unchangeable to lead a religious life." 

In that age, a religious life meant retirement 
from the world to the seclusion and ascetic practices, 
the fastings, the vigils and strict regulations of a 
monastery. To this Bernard resolved to give him- 
self. He purposed, however, not to go alone, and 
with sublime courage he resolved to win to the 
same religious life he had embraced those two elder 
brothers whose example had for a while turned his 
heart away from it toward a military career. This 
was not an easy thing to do. His oldest brother, 
Guido, was already married and the father of chil- 
dren; his next brother, Gerard, was a daring soldier, 
with a martial spirit and soaring ambitions, and 
already in high repute for wisdom and bravery in 
action. But Bernard was one whom great diffi- 
culties only stimulated to greater effort, and the 
heavenly fire which had subdued his heart to peni- 
tence and high resolve had touched his lips like- 
wise with overpowering eloquence. His brothers, 
his uncle, and more than twenty others besides, 
were induced by his eloquence to join him in his 
purpose to forsake the world. It is said that 
"Mothers hid their sons, wives their husbands, 
maidens their lovers, and companions their friends, 
lest they should be drawn away by him." 

Leading such a company of men, most of them 
from influential families, Bernard and his com- 
panions would have found a welcome at almost 
any monastery in the land. He might have gone 
to the greatest of Burgundian abbeys, the rich and 

74 



BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

famous abbey of Clugni, where life was easy and 
the religious rule then far from strict. But he chose 
to go to Citeaux, the smallest, poorest and strictest 
of them all, at that time presided over by an Eng- 
lishman, Stephen Harding, whose sanctity all men 
respected, but whose austere rule and discipline 
most shrank from, so that his monastery, recently 
founded, was very small and in a languishing con- 
dition. The strict discipline and poverty, which 
had repelled others, was an attraction to Bernard 
and his companions, whom he had inspired with 
his own enthusiasm and devotion. He rejoiced 
to endure the hardest things for the love of Christ. 
The greatest self-mortification delighted him. He 
endeavored by means of it completely to subdue 
all bodily appetities and passions, so that, delivered 
from their clamor or control, he might easily dwell 
in an atmosphere of religious meditation and spirit- 
ual rapture. He took food, not to nourish life or 
derive from it strength, but to postpone death and 
keep himself from fainting. It was usually only 
a bit of bread moistened with warm water with 
no delicacy to please the palate. He regarded sleep 
as almost an utter loss of time, during which one 
was but as a dead man. As the delicacy and weak- 
ness of his body forbade his undertaking heavy 
tasks and hard labor, he compensated for that by 
assuming the most menial offices, like that of wash- 
ing dishes and greasing the shoes of the brethren. 

The coming of Bernard and his company to 
Citeaux resulted in such an increase of its prosperity 
and numbers, that it could not accommodate the 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

crowd that flocked to it. It was obliged to do what 
a beehive does with its swarming inhabitants — 
send out colonies to form other hives. In less than 
three years it sent out three colonies; Bernard 
was chosen the leader of the third. A band 
of twelve, representing the twelve apostles, with 
their young abbot, then twenty-four years old, rep- 
resenting Christ, bearing a cross and leading in 
a solemn chant, they marched forth to establish 
for themselves another home in the valley of Clair- 
vaux, one hundred miles distant. It was at the 
time a wild and desolate place which formerly had 
borne the name of "The Valley of Wormwood." 
The name was typical of the experiences they en- 
countered. They suffered the bitterness of hunger, 
of cold, of extreme privation, ere they became es- 
tablished. More than once they became discour- 
aged, and would have given up their enterprise 
but for the unfaltering faith and indomitable per- 
severance of Bernard. He was their example and 
their inspiration. 

Salt at one time failing them, he sent one of the 
brethren to a neighboring village for a fresh supply, 
but without money to pay for it. The monk demur- 
ring, in the belief that if he went empty handed 
he would return in like manner, Bernard said: 
"Be not afraid; He who has the treasure will be 
with thee and will supply the things for which I 
send." When the monk returned with more than 
he had gone for, the abbot said to him: "I tell thee, 
my son, that nothing is so necessary to a Christian 
man as faith. Have faith, and it will be well with 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

thee all the days of thy life." At another time 
when they were brought almost to the verge of 
despair on account of their destitution and began 
to talk of returning to Citeaux, "where at least 
the means of maintaining life could be commanded, 
Bernard kneeled and prayed till he felt that a voice 
from heaven had answered him." To their ques- 
tion, what he had prayed for, he simply answered: 
"Remain as you are, and you will know"; and 
shortly relief came to them from three different 
sources. After a period of hard struggle, filled with 
such incidents, whose effect was to inspire them 
with more complete confidence and reverence for 
their leader as one peculiarly favored of heaven, 
they overcame all obstacles and achieved a marvel- 
ous success. 

That wild and desolate valley became through 
their labors a paradise of beauty, fertility and 
plenty, well deserving its name of Clairvaux, or 
"bright valley." Formed by two lines of con- 
verging hills opening toward the east and coming 
together at the west, where the monastery stood, 
the valley was bright with sunshine in the morning 
and with the glory of the sunset reflected from its 
hills long after the monastery lay in the shadows 
that fell upon it in the late afternoon. It was bright 
in spring with blossoming orchards and smiling 
gardens; and in autumn with the golden fruit and 
the ripening harvest that the industry of the brother- 
hood had created out of the wilderness of forest 
and marsh land which they found there at their 
coming. In time, the original twelve multiplied 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

by accessions as the parent institute of Citeaux 
had done, so that it was obliged in turn to send 
out colonies. A hundred and sixty of these went 
from it in Bernard's own lifetime, one of which 
founded the celebrated "Fountains' Abbey," in 
England, whose beautiful ruins as seen today form 
one of the notable objects of interest to American 
travelers in the mother country. But wherever they 
went and however beautiful the new homes they 
established, these colonists reluctantly left the valley 
of Clairvaux and the monastery where the presence 
and rule of Bernard were a constant benediction, 
and they incessantly longed to return thither. In 
time it was greatly enlarged to accommodate those 
who entreated to stay, so that it contained within 
it at the time of his death seven hundred monks. 
Here at Clairvaux, Bernard spent the most of his 
life, nearly forty years, with those occasional ab- 
sences which the service of the Church or of the 
State required. 

The Monastic System 

It is proper that, at this point, we should dwell 
awhile upon that remarkable institution of monas- 
ticism, with which Bernard stands associated. 
We should make a great mistake, if, misled by our 
prejudices and Protestant training, we should pass 
a sweeping condemnation upon it as though based 
solely upon religious infatuation, and fraught only 
with mischief to mankind. Dr. Storrs says truly, 
that "No institution exists for centuries and con- 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

tinues to attract the reverent regard of many of 
the best and most cultured of the time, which has 
not a foundation in wide and wholesome human 
tendencies or which does not minister, more or 
less successfully, to recognized moral needs of man- 
kind." This is true, we think, of that monastic 
life so passionately embraced by Bernard, and which 
as exemplified in him must be confessed to have 
had an attractive charm, and produced a whole- 
some effect. Its essential idea and purpose was 
a life of retirement and seclusion from the world 
for the sake of religious meditation, self -collection 
and the formation and recovery of those ideals of 
character and conduct that are most worthy and 
fit to regulate the soul. So defined, it may be said 
that the germs of monasticism are clearly discernible 
in the Bible. We find them in the lives of the 
ancient prophets, Moses and Elijah, in John the 
Baptist, even in Christ and his Apostles. 

It was under the impulse of the monastic spirit, 
so to speak, that they occasionally withdrew from 
the noise and bustle and excitement of this crowded, 
bewildering worldly life, which we all know so well, 
and of which we often become weary. The soli- 
tude of the desert, of mountain, or of sea, was under 
such circumstances as grateful and as restful to 
them as is the stillness of night under the quiet 
stars to one oppressed with "the cares that infest 
the day"; or as is the repose of sleep, when ex- 
hausted with the day's toil. In this view of the 
matter we may affirm that monasticism is a prod- 
uct of man's spiritual wants and necessities, that 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

it sprang up to satisfy cravings and impulses of 
which all people of any degree of spirituality are 
at times conscious. When the pressure of life be- 
comes heavy and burdensome, and one feels his 
weakness and the smallness of his own unaided re- 
sources; when one is confronted by great and per- 
plexing problems, for the solution of which he has 
no light, then it is natural for him to look for relief 
and light in retirement from the world and con- 
verse with God. The words of Christ to his dis- 
ciples: "Come ye apart into a desert place and 
rest awhile" seem suited to his need, and the saying 
of the prophet: "My people shall dwell in a peace- 
able habitation and in sure dwellings and in quiet 
resting places," equivalent to a divine direction, 
obeying which he may, and thus only may, perhaps, 
attain that righteousness "whose work," according 
to his prophet, "shall be peace and whose effect, 
quietness and assurance forever." Thus the 
troubled and harrassed soul is prompted to seek and 
often finds what the poet extols as a "gift sub- 
lime" 

". . . that blessed mood, 
In which the burden of the mystery, 
In which the heavy and the weary weight 
Of all this unintelligible world 
Is lightened." 

The needs of nature and of religion demand oc- 
casional indulgence of this craving for retirement 
and seclusion from the world. 

It is a necessity for all deeper and most fruitful 
souls. "Man must retire at intervals within him- 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

self in reflection and silence, to do the best things, " 
says one of the greatest of our American preachers. 
The examples of Christ and of the Apostle Paul 
intimate that such seclusion is especially needful 
both as a preparation for successful work in the 
ministry and as a means of spiritual invigoration 
amid its exhausting labors. All the great preachers 
of the past have by means of it replenished their 
stores of thought and been girded with strength 
for the deliverance of their messages. Chrysostom, 
Augustine, Savonarola, Baxter, Howe and Edwards 
thus prepared their pinions for higher flight. And 
"in chambers of scholars, "says Dr. Storrs, "in 
how many schools of sacred learning, where out- 
ward things for the time at least have been ex- 
cluded, and no echo has been heard of the furious 
and mercenary rush of society, have men come to 
the loftiest efforts and successes of intellectual and 
spiritual life? There philanthropies and missions 
have been born; there sublime intuitions of truth 
have given new import to the Scriptures; and there 
immortality has become to the soul asserting kin- 
ship with God, a proximate presence." 

The religious system of monasticism was con- 
trived so as to promote by its regulations and dis- 
cipline the spiritual life of those submissive to it. 
Life among them was occupied with worship, study, 
and work, and for the pursuit of these objects they 
solemnly vowed to observe in practice the virtues of 
obedience, chastity and poverty or self-denial. The 
Cistercian monasteries, of which Clairvaux was 
one, represented, as we have intimated, a reform 

6 81 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

in the ancient Benedictine discipline, which, as in 
the case of the famous abbey of Clugni, had become 
lax and corrupt through their acquisition of riches 
and spiritual declension. The monastery of Citeaux, 
which Bernard had originally joined and to which 
his coming had given great prosperity, compelling 
it to colonize, was the mother of this new order, 
and Clair veaux was her third daughter. 

At Clairveaux, therefore, monasticism was pre- 
sented in its best form. Let us try to imagine, if 
possible, the sort of life they lived there during the 
days of Bernard. The daily services of religion 
were seven in number, in accordance with the ex- 
ample of the psalmist, Ps. 119; 164, "Seven times 
a day do I praise thee." These were known as 
"The Canonical Hours," and were as follows: 

1. Nocturnes, two o'clock in the morning, when 
it was believed that Christ rose from the dead; 

2. Prime, or Matins, six o'clock in the morning, 
when it was believed Christ's resurrection was an- 
nounced to the women; 3. Tierce, nine o'clock, when 
Christ was condemned and scourged by Pilate; 
4. Sext, twelve (noon), when Christ was crucified 
and darkness was over all the earth; 5. Nones, 
three o'clock in the afternoon, the hour of public 
prayer in the temple, and when Christ gave up the 
ghost; 6. Vespers, six o'clock, the hour of evening 
sacrifice in the temple, and when Christ was taken 
down from the cross; 7. Compline, or "Even- 
Song," solemnly sung about seven o'clock, when 
Christ's agony began in the garden. 

Thomas Fuller after giving these divisions, or 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

"hours," of their religious day, adds the following 
comments. In regard to the first : "It was no fault, 
for the greater haste, to come without shoes, or 
with unwashen hands (provided sprinkled with 
holy water) to this night's service. And I find no 
expression to the contrary but that they might go 
to bed again; but a flat prohibition after matins, 
when to return to bed was accounted a petty apos- 
tasy." 

In regard to the last, called also the "Comple- 
tory," it completed the duties of the day. This 
service was concluded with that versicle of the 
psalmist: "Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth 
and keep the door of my lips, " Ps. 141 ; 3. With this 
was connected the injunction strictly observed: "Let 
none speak a word after ' completory , ' but hasten 
to their beds." The rule was, in regard to these 
"hours": "Let all at the signal given (the tolling 
of a bell in England, hence called the "Ringing 
Island") leave off their work, and repair presently 
to prayers." "This canon was so strict," says 
Fuller, that "writers having begun to frame and 
flourish a text letter were not to finish it, but break 
off in the middle thereof." 

Of another rule, that "those who are absent in 
public employment, be reputed present in prayers": 
"There was a particular commemoration made of 
them, and they by name were recommended to 
divine protection." Those also were to observe the 
same hours. "Be it by sea or land, on ship, in house 
or field, they were to fall down on their knees, and 
though at distance, and very briefly, yet in some 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

sort to keep time and tune with the convent in 
their devotions." (See Fuller's "Church History of 
Britain," Book 6, Sec. 2.) 

From the standard work of Dr. R. S. Storrs, 
"Bernard of Clairvaux," we take the following brief 
summary of the life pursued at Clairvaux in Ber- 
nard's day: "The rule of Benedict was strictly 
observed in it during the lifetime of Bernard, and 
as long as his influence remained dominant there. 
According to this, the abbot, though elected by 
the monks, afterwards represented among them 
the Divine Master, and to him was to be rendered 
respect, veneration, and immediate obedience. 
Among things insisted on, these were prominent: 
no sensuality, no idle or jesting words, humility, 
patience under injuries, contentment with meanest 
goods or employments, constancy in religious serv- 
ice, regularity in labor. For offences, chastise- 
ment; for the incorrigible, expulsion. Of course, 
no personal property was permitted. Each of the 
monks served in his turn in the kitchen, or at the 
table. Meals were to be eaten, but accompanied 
with the reading of Scripture. ('This,' says 
Fuller, 'was St Austin's rule. Ne solae fauces 
sumant cibum, sed et aures percipiant Dei verbum. 9 ) 
A spiritual lecture was to be given each night 
before 'compline'; after 'compline' silence resigned. 
In summer, work was required from 'prime' till 
ten o'clock; from ten to twelve, readings, reflection, 
and perhaps rest; after 'nones,' labor again till 
even-song. In the winter, the hours differed some- 
what, and the outdoor work was limited or sus- 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

pended; but the succession of work, reading, and 
prayer continued." (Lee. IV.) 

It must be confessed that the system and life 
thus described was adapted, one would think, to 
promote a vital piety and good conduct in those 
who consecrated themselves to it. And they did 
this among the Cistercians in the time of Bernard 
and for generations after. The statement of the 
writer in "The Catholic Encyclopedia" concerning 
them is undeniable: "Their abbeys during their 
golden age (1134-1342) were so many sanctuaries 
of the most fervent prayer, of the severest discipline 
as well as of untiring and constant labor." 

The piety thus developed and nurtured in their 
inmates was not their only fruit. They yielded 
other benefits to mankind of inestimable value, of 
which none can question the reality and importance, 
though they may deny and scout at their religious 
and social influence. As teachers of what, for 
those times, was scientific agriculture; as drainers of 
fens and swamps; as clearers of forests; as makers 
of roads; as tillers of reclaimed soil; as architects 
of durable and even stately buildings; as exhibiting 
a type of orderly government in a rude and chaotic 
age; as mitigating the ferocity and cruelties of war 
and the savage spirit it engenders; as showing the 
superiority to warlike pursuits of peaceful employ- 
ments, and the refining influence of literature, art 
and Christian charity; as students and transcribers 
of both sacred and classical literature in their Scrip- 
toria; as the collectors of precious libraries connected 
with their monasteries; as the teachers and founders 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

of schools, they have won the everlasting grati- 
tude of mankind. 

Their manifest good work attracted to them men 
of the highest class and noblest character. " Princes 
and kings," says Dr. Storrs, "were gladly num- 
bered among the lay brothers. Some of them fully 
entered the convents, and men of the highest rank 
and repute were found serving faithfully in kitchen, 
or mill, cutting faggots, gathering crops, or de- 
lighting to drive the pigs to the field." 

What then was the error of monasticism? 

The error of monasticism was in supposing that an 
occasional want of the soul justified a permanent sepa- 
ration and seclusion of the best and most devout people 
from the world and its society for the sake of religion. 
They thus converted what should be an occasional 
spiritual discipline and refreshment into a constant 
self-indulgence, which so used became at length 
unhealthful and the source of serious ills. 

Let us not, in reprobating the mischief that arose 
and brought this institution into widespread dis- 
repute, be blind to the thing perverted. 

Occasional retirement from the world for prayer, 
reflection and quiet, undisturbed study of God's 
truth, that one may enjoy a "Sabbath of the Soul," 
and have a clear vision of this truth, is essential to 
our highest spiritual welfare. It is indispensable 
to the successful minister. In the still "retreat" 
and solitude thus obtained one gains admission to 
the "audience chamber of God," and acquires the 
moral elevation, the deep convictions and conse- 
quent moral earnestness that make him eloquent 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

and impressive as a preacher. "The eloquent 
man," says Emerson, "is not merely a beautiful 
speaker, but one who is inwardly drunk with a cer- 
tain belief. This terrible earnestness makes good 
the ancient superstition of the hunter that the bul- 
let will hit its mark which is first dipped in the 
marksman's blood." 

The eloquence for which Bernard became famous 
was the eloquence of a message that had first been 
dipped in his own blood. It was a matter of heart 
experience, and not merely a doctrine of his creed; 
and it was perhaps largely due to his monastic 
life and its large opportunity for quiet meditation 
and uplifting of his heart in prayer to God in that 
age of storm and distraction, that he attained at 
length this experience. He seems to have experi- 
enced all the benefits, and to have been preserved 
from all the dangers connected with such a life. 
"From these dangers, even the subtlest," says Dr. 
Storrs, "Bernard was preserved not only by the 
grace of God in his sincere and ardent soul, but by 
his assiduous study of the Scriptures, and by the 
multitudinous activities, within the convent and 
beyond it, which constantly engaged him. When 
at home he preached every day, besides taking his 
faithful part in the customary labors. He wrote 
treatises, rich in the products of careful reflection, 
and with passages of remarkable beauty and power 
as well as of high spiritual thought. His letter 
writing was constant, of vast extent and variety, 
often concerning the gravest matters. His letters 
were addressed to men of all classes and conditions 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

and on all sorts of subjects, from the highest themes 
of truth, duty, and Christian experience, to the 
humblest particulars of familiar affairs." 

He was the counselor and influential advisor of 
kings and popes. "His utmost energy was called 
for and was exerted in the successive crises which 
confronted him in the Church and in the State, 
and nothing seems to have occurred in France or 
in other related countries during the last thirty 
years of his life, concerning directly or indirectly 
the honor and interest of religion, which was not 
brought to his personal notice, on which his govern- 
ing, practical genius was not intensely busy. " Thus, 
though living apart from the world, he was suffi- 
ciently concerned with its great interests to keep 
his heart in healthy sympathy with mankind. 

The chief interest, however, which he has for us 
is not that of a representative of the monastic sys- 
tem, or that of an ecclesiastical statesman, but that 
of a great preacher, whose eminence was due, to 
some extent perhaps, to his peculiar religious life 
and environment, but due far more to the personal 
characteristics which distinguished him. What 
these characteristics were, and wherein his power 
as a preacher chiefly lay we will now attempt to 
show. 

As to his personal appearance and physical quali- 
fications: These were such that "he persuaded the 
eye before the ear heard him." He was of about 
the middle height, but the veneration and respect 
he inspired made him seem taller. His figure was 
slight and his movements were graceful. His 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

features, possessing a refined and saintly beauty, 
an inheritance from his mother, were yet marked 
with lines of strength that made his face command- 
ing. It was lighted up with expressive eyes which 
ordinarily looked only gentleness, tenderness and 
benevolence, but "which glowed at times as if with 
divines t fires." Delicate health and physical in- 
firmity made him seem, at first, like one near to 
death, and gave great solemnity to his words. There 
was, however, no impression of feebleness in his 
speaking. His ardent spirit so energized his fragile 
frame and physical powers that he displayed great 
vivacity and astonishing vigor as he advanced in 
his discourse. 

He had a remarkable voice, "which quivered like 
a harp string or rang like a trumpet in its chang- 
ing emotion." (Storrs.) There was a power of 
entrancement in its clear, far-reaching tone which 
repeatedly enthralled great multitudes, and such 
a manifestation of spirit as made the impression that 
he was a heaven-sent messenger. 

His mental qualities were still more extraordinary; 
among them, a rich and fertile imagination. "One 
would hardly know," says Dr. Storrs, "where to 
find a brighter example of the power which is im- 
parted to the preacher by this noble, if sometimes 
dangerous, faculty. Whatever his subject, however 
familiar, or apparently trivial, there is always a 
transfiguring light thrown upon it by his imagination, 
which is like the light upon Italian hills. His sug- 
gestive faculty was quick, active and fruitful of 
thought. Sometimes he indulged it too much, so 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

much that a hearer would find it hard to discover 
the relation between his text and the sermon which 
followed; for 'the text is often hardly more than the 
nest, from which like the eagle he lifts himself on 
eager wing to touch, if he may, the stars.'" 

He possessed an extraordinary power of mental 
abstraction. When meditating upon his sermons 
in his convent cell, or in the rustic arbor with an 
enchanting view of the lovely valley, to which he 
often retired, he became lost in thought and in- 
sensible to everything without. Though his love 
of nature amounted to a passion and he was alive 
to her every suggestion and influence, and though 
he found in her an interpreter of revelation, so that 
he says, "whatever he had learned of the Scrip- 
tures and of their spiritual meaning had chiefly 
come to him while he was meditating and praying 
in the woods and fields," yet when occasion re- 
quired he could exclude everything from his mind 
and become engrossed in whatever subject claimed 
his attention. This is an invaluable power. To 
it Isaac Newton attributed whatever preeminence 
over other men he had won in science. The preacher 
needs it, to be able to elaborate his thought amid 
the distractions of the world. 

But the most important qualifications of Bernard, 
as of every great preacher, were moral and spiritual. 
These had their roots in and were nourished by his 
religious faith. This faith was that in which he 
was instructed in his youth, when the teaching of 
the Catholic Church was, as compared with that of 
later times, much closer to original primitive Chris- 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

tianity and more in harmony with the sacred 
Scriptures. Luther extols him, as "the most God- 
fearing and pious of monks"; and Calvin, as "a pious 
and holy writer, above his time, pungent and dis- 
criminating in rebuke of its errors." "He accepted, 
without reserve, the system of Christianity as it 
had come to him from the past, as it seemed to 
him set forth in the Scriptures, as it was associated 
with the deepest and subtlest longings and attain- 
ments of his spiritual nature. He believed it be- 
cause he felt it. He could truly say of it: 'All my 
springs are in Thee.' The sphere of truth had to 
him an atmosphere about it full of tints and sunny 
splendors, in contemplating which his soul delighted, 
and by which the truth seemed freshly verified. He 
was a contemplative yet a most practical mystic." 
(Storrs.) 

The criterion of its truth, or reality, was its power 
and tendency to bring man's spirit nearer to God. 
That evidence of its divine authority Bernard him- 
self had received to a remarkable degree. Neander 
and other close students of his life and character 
dwell much and often upon his deep and large re- 
ligious experience. He was not content with a 
traditional faith; he was not satisfied with anything 
less than a personal verification of it obtained 
through his own moral perceptions and spiritual 
intuitions as these came to him in prayer, earnest 
study and deep meditation upon the Scripture 
teachings. 

Having thus verified it, he was, in his preaching, 
a witness to its truth. He spoke as one who had 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

himself received and heard it from God. "No 
doubt fettered his powers. Celestial impulses were 
felt to vibrate on his uplifting words." The con- 
viction and certainty which belong to such a preacher, 
resounding in his tones and looking forth from his 
eyes, gave to his utterances a thrilling effect. 

This ability to bear credible witness to the truth 
is the supreme qualification of the preacher. It 
stood first in the qualifications of the apostles. 
It is first always. It is the source of other quali- 
fications. Besides certainty and conviction, it gives 
to the preacher earnestness, spirituality, a tender 
Christlike love of souls, intrepid boldness, the au- 
thority which invests a messenger from God. These 
qualities were characteristic of Bernard. Histo- 
rians and contemporaries say of him, that "the 
doctrine which he taught came to men illumined, 
and spiritually emphasized by their clear perception 
of his profound experience of it"; that "he spoke 
as one who had communion with heaven"; that 
"he seemed to reverence every man and to fear 
no man"; that his influence was so immense that 
"he was at once the leading and governing head 
of Christendom, more the pope than was the pontiff 
himself," and that "his persuasive power was so 
great that he led men captive and constrained them 
almost against their wills to do his bidding"; that 
"the Germans who could not understand a word 
he said, were carried away by his preaching equally 
with his own more excitable countrymen. " 

The following remarkable example of the sub- 
duing power of his eloquence is reported by histo- 



BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

rians. It was connected with a famous dispute as 
to the right of succession to the papacy, which oc- 
curred in Bernard's time. Of the two claimants, 
Anacletus 2d and Innocent 2d, Innocent at last 
prevailed, chiefly through the influence of Bernard. 
Opposed to him was the powerful Count of Aqui- 
taine, who in his fierce opposition deposed those 
bishops in his dominions who favored Innocent, and 
filled their vacant places with creatures of his own 
choosing. "He was a man of vast stature and of 
gigantic strength with a peculiarly violent, sensual 
and intractable temper." He feared not God nor 
regarded man. 

When Innocent had become established in the 
papal chair, Bernard in company with the papal 
legate waited upon this fierce prince to induce him 
to give in his allegiance to the generally recognized 
pope, and to reinstate the deposed bishops. The 
pope he was willing to recognize, but the bishops 
he refused to restore. "They had offended him 
past forgivness and he had sworn never to be rec- 
onciled to them. Argument was vain; as well argue 
with a wild beast." Bernard broke off the useless 
discussion, and proceeded with his companions to 
the church to celebrate mass. The count remained 
at the door, an unrepentant rebel to the Church. 
When the host had been consecrated, Bernard with 
lifted arms and flashing face advanced with it to- 
ward him and said: "We have besought you and 
you have spurned us. These servants of God have 
entreated you and you have despised them. Be- 
hold, here comes to you the Virgin's Son, the Head 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

and Lord of the Church which you persecute. Your 
judge is here, 'at whose name every knee shall 
bow, of things in heaven and things on earth, and 
things under the earth.' Your Judge is here, into 
whose hands your soul is to pass. Will you spurn 
Him also? Will you despise Him as you have de- 
spised His Servants?" 

"An awful silence," we are told, "fell on the 
assembly and a dread expectation. The furious and 
implacable count, pierced in spirit, fell to the ground, 
and lay there speechless. Lifted by his knights, 
he could not stand, and fell again foaming at the 
mouth. Bernard bade him rise and listen to the 
judgment of God. He presented the Bishop of 
Poictiers, whom he had violently expelled from his 
see, and commanded the count to give him, then 
and there, the kiss of peace, and restore him to his 
seat. He meekly obeyed and with a kiss led the 
bishop to his place. He who had an army at his 
back, and who himself could, by reason of his brute 
strength, have smitten Bernard into instant death 
with one blow of fist or mace, yielded to the onset 
of his overwhelming will. Nor only for the time; 
he gave himself, from that time on, to repentance 
for sin and the service of religion." 

This incident shows a man of masterful force, 
resolute spirit, and indomitable will, as well as of 
intrepid courage. One might think it indicated 
also a haughty, presumptuous spirit; but that would 
be a mistake. Though at the impulse of duty he 
did not hesitate, as God's minister, to rebuke or 
expostulate with kings and popes and great nobles, 

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BERNAUD OF CLAIRVAUX 

he was, and, notwithstanding the honors and ap- 
plause he received, he continued to be, one of the 
most humble and self-depreciating of men. "The 
humility of his heart," we are told, "surpassed the 
majesty of his fame, so that when receiving the 
profuse honors and adulation of princes or of peoples, 
he did not seem to himself to be Bernard, but some 
one else substituted for him; he only recognizing 
himself in his proper personality when he resumed 
familiar talk with the humbler of his brethren." 

Perhaps it may be truly said, that when in his 
high moods of spiritual exaltation and of eloquence, 
he was another person. Those moods were due to 
the descent of the Spirit of God upon him, or to his 
becoming suddenly possessed by truths and ideas 
which under the operation of the spirit lifted him 
above his usual self. There are instances in the 
Bible where the spirit of God came upon men with 
transporting power. (Examples: Samson, Elijah, 
Elisha, Isaiah, etc.) Most of us can remember 
seasons in our experience, when we have been lifted 
to such exaltation of mind and high achievements 
by inspiring ideas and spiritual influences, that, 
as we look back upon them from the lower plain 
to which alas! we soon descended and on which 
we usually move, it seems as if it was some one else 
that felt and spoke and did thus. Our study of the 
life of Bernard has made the impression upon us that 
his amazing eloquence is to be explained in this way. 
The "Spirit of God came upon him" at those times, 
and with this unction from on High his speech pos- 
sessed an irresistible and marvelous power. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

We give two more instances, as Dr. R. S. Storrs 
has described them in his fascinating volume: "He 
preached once in Paris, in the schools of philosophy, 
where men were too busy with engrossing disputa- 
tions to give any practical heed to his words, and the 
discourse apparently produced no effect. He went 
home to pray, with sobs and groans, with deep 
searchings of heart and a passion of tears. He 
was in anguish of spirit, lest God had forsaken him. 
The next day he preached again, with the unction 
and energy derived from this divine communion, 
and large numbers were converted and gave them- 
selves to God at the hand of his servant." 

The other instance is his discourse at Spires be- 
fore the Emperor Conrad, whom he sought to enlist 
in the second crusade, which Bernard, unhappily 
for his fame, was chiefly instrumental in causing: 
"At Frankfort, Bernard had had audience with the 
emperor, but had failed to impress him with the 
duty or the privilege of taking part in the crusade. 
Subsequently, at Spires, he saw him again, but 
without effect. The only answer he obtained from 
him was, that he would consider the matter, con- 
sult his advisers, and give his reply on the following 
day. On that day, Bernard officiated at mass, the 
Emperor being present. Suddenly, without invi- 
tation, moved as he felt by the divine spirit, he 
began to preach. At the end of the discourse, turn- 
ing to Conrad in the crowded cathedral, and feeling 
himself as much alone with him as if the earth had 
swung out of sight and only they two remained to 
remember it, he addressed him, not as an emperor, 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

but as a man. His whole soul flung itself forth from 
his impassioned lips, and he was for the time as 
one inspired. He pictured the coming tribunal of 
judgment with the man then before him standing 
there in the presence of the Christ who says to 
him, 'O man, what ought I to have done for thee, 
which I have not done?' He set forth the height 
and splendor of royalty, the riches of the emperor, the 
wise counsels he could command, his virile strength 
of mind and body, for all which things he must 
give account. The whole scene of the coming 
judgment seemed palpably present to the mind of 
the preacher, while it flamed as a vision through 
his prophetic admonitory words. We may con- 
ceive that the cathedral itself appeared to darken 
in the shadows and to tremble with the echoes of 
ethereal thunders, as 'He who cometh with clouds' 
was foreshown. At last the Emperor, bursting into 
tears in the midst of the discourse, exclaimed: 'I 
acknowledge the gifts of the Divine favor; nor will 
I prove ungrateful for them. He assisting me I 
am ready to serve Him, seeing that on His part I 
am so admonished.' 'The Emperor took the holy 
banner from the hand of Bernard, a multitude of 
nobles followed eagerly his example and the second 
crusade was launched upon its turbulent way." 

Besides this remarkable unction, he possessed 
the equally important qualification of a saintly char- 
acter. "Remember to give to your words the voice 
of a noble virtue," he once said to a young abbot, 
whom he was instructing in the art of preaching. 
He himself was an eminent example of his own 

7 97 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

teaching. His eloquence well exemplified Emer- 
son's definition of being "the best speech of the 
best soul." His evident piety and the striking 
fruits of it in his life caused him to be regarded as 
a genuine saint by all classes. He was canonized 
only twenty years after his death. Men coveted 
his blessing as certain to bring celestial good; they 
imputed to him heavenly wisdom; he spoke with 
the authority of one enjoying the special favor and 
the direction of heavenly powers. "His very char- 
acter seemed an evangel." 

One more qualification and our characterization 
of him is finished. He was a "gospel" preacher 
in the truest sense of the word. The truth with 
which he charged his sermons and the motives to 
which he appealed were almost wholly evangelical. 
Man's lost condition through sin and God's redeem- 
ing love and grace as expressed in the person and 
work of Christ viewed as man, savior, priest, and 
king, these doctrines were the warp and woof of 
his sermons. These doctrines form a great maga- 
zine of spiritual power. The motives that are 
touched by them are the strongest and most potent 
known to man. Appealed to, or stimulated and 
strengthened by them, men rise to greater things 
than otherwise would be reached by them. In 
Bernard's case, these doctrines were both the source 
of an irresistible eloquence and the spring of a 
seraphic piety. 

How lofty and irresistible, at times, was his elo- 
quence, the examples given sufficiently indicate; 
how ardent his piety is shown by his hymns. Ex- 



BERNAUD OF CLAIRVAUX 

amples of these hymns may be found in most of 
our hymnals. Originally put into Latin verse, 
good English translations of them have been made. 
The following are the first lines of four that are now 
generally familiar: 

"O sacred Head, once wounded.'* 
"O Jesus, King most wonderful." 
"Jesus, thou Joy of loving hearts!" 
"Jesus, the very thought of Thee." 
(In the Manual of Praise, Oberlin.) 

Where in the whole field of hymnology can one 
find expressed more ardent love for Christ, or more 
complete trust and devotion than in these hymns? 
They match those of Charles Wesley. They are 
the breathings of a soul ravished with the love of 
him whom they extol. 

The most of his sermons that have come down 
to us, in the fragmentary reports of them made 
by some of the brethren at Clairvaux, are char- 
acterized by the same sweetness of spirit and warmth 
of evangelical sentiment as these hymns. "They 
are," to quote an admiring Catholic eulogist, "at 
once so sweet and so ardent that it is as though his 
mouth were a fountain of honey and his heart a 
furnace of love." 

Being such a man, with such extraordinary gifts 
and qualifications for preaching, and achieving by 
it such marvelous results, what shall we say of his 
eloquence? Considering its triumphs and effects, 
it seems to have realized, in the largest measure, 
that witchery of speech, mysterious, inexplicable, 

99 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

which is so wonderful in the highest eloquence. As 
a poet of the highest genius is born, not made, so 
with such a preacher. His eloquence is a gift of 
God. No art or industry could fabricate it. 

And yet Bernard's example is full of instruction 
for all preachers and students preparing for the 
ministry. It emphasizes in particular the follow- 
ing things: 

(1) The value to the preacher of occasional seasons 
of seclusion from the world, for close study of God's 
word, for meditation and the replenishment of his 
spiritual force by prayer and communion with God. 
Without this the mind is in danger of becoming 
unspiritual, professional, destitute of any fresh, 
clear vision, or inspiring thought. Religious seclu- 
sion for the purposes named is as needful for the 
health of the soul, as rest and sleep for the health 
of the body. By means of it the exhausted foun- 
tains of life are refilled, as the fountain of an inter- 
mittent spring is replenished by a period of seeming 
inactivity. "The spirit needs meditation as the 
day needs the night" is a maxim of experience. 
Without the night we should never see the stars; 
without meditation, we should lose sight of spiritual 
verities that give an ineffable grandeur to our being. 
It is the preacher's office to explore the depths of 
those heavens in which these verities lie hidden, 
and direct the attention of men to them. Without 
meditation and prayer he cannot successfully do 
either one or the other. 

(2) The life of Bernard emphasizes also the im- 
portance to the ministry of combining with such sea- 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

sons of seclusion from the world a constant living 
contact with the world and an active interest in its 
affairs. It was this living contact with the world 
and active interest in its affairs that preserved 
Bernard from the common evils associated with 
monasticism. It is with men as with water. Water 
is purified and clarified by being occasionally with- 
drawn from the turbid stream in which it flows. 
Pausing in its onward rush in the still placid pools 
that occur here and there in its course, it precipi- 
tates the sediment which has defiled its purity, 
and it better reflects the heavens in its tranquil 
surface. But entirely withdrawn from the stream 
and separated long from it, so that it does not feel 
its quickening pulse, the water of the pool becomes 
stagnant, and the place is converted into a malarial 
swamp. So it is, I say, with men. Therefore the 
minister must, with his seasons of seclusion for 
prayer and study and meditation, join such an 
interest in the world and such an active part with 
mankind as will preserve his heart from corrup- 
tion. He can do this by diligently exercising his 
pastoral function, by performing those ministries 
to the sick, the poor, the tempted, and by discharg- 
ing the duties to society and the state, incumbent 
on him as a citizen, and which the ministry is so 
well qualified to perform. 

(3) The life of Bernard emphasizes the impor- 
tance of a genuine experience by the minister of the 
truth he preaches. "Instructed by the Mistress Ex- 
perience," says Bernard, "I will sing of mercy and 
judgment. " His profound religious experience made 

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him an impressive and convincing witness to the 
great doctrines of the Bible. So is it with any 
successful minister. The true prophet will not 
be content, unless he has such a testimony to give. 
Others may be satisfied with a tradition; he must 
hear the voice of the spirit for himself and verify 
or reject the doctrine which tradition affirms. 

In what has been said of Bernard we have con- 
fined ourselves to his remarkable personal quali- 
ties, his saintly virtues, his eminent abilities and 
admirable achievements. Scarcely a word has 
been given to faults of character or conduct. On 
this account we may be accused of excessive eulogy 
to the discredit of the truthfulness of our study of 
the man. No doubt he had faults of character 
and conduct. He carried his abstinence and asceti- 
cism to an absurd extreme, to the great injury of 
his health and the perpetuation of a false standard 
of conduct. His resolute encouragement of the 
second crusade was most unwise and disastrous. 
He was chiefly responsible for its mischief. It 
was a chimerical enterprise, doomed from the start 
to melancholy failure, and involving the sacrifice 
of many precious, heroic lives after incredible hard- 
ships and sufferings. But probably the worst 
thing that can be alleged against him is his theo- 
logical persecution of and intolerant treatment of 
Abelard at the famous Synod of Sens, A. D. 1140. 

Abelard was one of the most celebrated men of 
his time; like Bernard he was of noble family, of 
the province of Brittany. Possessing an eager in- 
quiring mind and displaying extraordinary abilities 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

as a youth, he was provided by his father with larger 
educational advantages than usual for those times. 
Study was an enthusiasm with him, and he grati- 
fied his passion by attendance upon the most famous 
schools of the kingdom. At the age of twenty, 
he went to Paris, and studied at its schools of philos- 
ophy and letters. Handsome, brilliant in thought 
and speech, accomplished and engaging in manners 
and address, he attracted attention and admira- 
tion wherever he went. While yet a very young 
man he himself became a teacher, and opened schools 
at Melun, at Corbeil, and on the height of Saint 
Genevieve, to which many pupils were attracted, 
upon whom he made such an impression of mental 
power, sagacity and extensive knowledge that the 
saying became current among them, that Abelard 
"knew whatever was knowable." At the age of 
thirty four he became the head of that great school 
of Paris, which developed later into its famous Uni- 
versity. 

Prom studies in philosophy and science, his eager 
mind turned its attention to theology, and he aspired 
to become equally a master in that. His effort 
as a theologian, says Dr. Storrs, was "to present 
a rational philosophy of the Christian religion, and, 
without denying its transcendent truths, to so com- 
mend them to the intelligence of men as to win for 
them just mental assent, and to reconcile with them 
the more searching and inquisitive thought of the 
time." The effort seems to us to have been com- 
mendable and deserving of the approbation of the 
ruling authorities of the Church instead of their 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

condemnation. It is not improbable that they 
would have given their approval had Abelard ex- 
hibited along with his effort a persuasive and con- 
ciliatory spirit. But he was derisive and imperious 
towards his critics, impatient of dissent, and of the 
hesitation of cautious and timid minds, answering 
their objections with scorn and a haughty disdain. 
Men are not prone to give to new ideas and novel 
statements a ready acceptance, if those who pro- 
pose them exhibit an unamiable temper. These 
novelties may be supported by good reasons, but 
their reasonableness will not be perceived under the 
circumstances. Those opposed will refuse to be 
convinced, if the advocate uses the lash of caustic 
speech to overcome their resistance. Instead of 
converts he makes them determined adversaries. 
Cousin calls Abelard "the father of modern ra- 
tionalism." The effect of his teaching was to un- 
settle the faith of his disciples in the traditional 
teachings of the Church. "The bold young man," 
says the historian Michelet, "simplified, explained, 
humanized, everything. He suffered scarcely any- 
thing of the hidden and the divine to remain in the 
most commanding mysteries. It seemed as if the 
Church till that time had been stammering, while 
Abelard spoke out." But in the opinion of the 
leaders of the Church it was fit that she should 
stammer in speaking of the mysteries of her faith. 
In her view they were incomprehensible, and she 
looked upon his effort to explain them as irreverent 
and profane. Bernard thought so, and placed him- 
self decisively among Abelard's adversaries, after 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

a careful examination of his published writings, 
deeming him "a rash adventurer on a dangerous 
path, if not a concealed enemy of the truth." He 
abhorred him both as a teacher of damnable error 
subversive of the faith of the Church, and as a 
wicked, immoral man, who had seduced for the 
gratification of his lust the beautiful and accom- 
plished Heloise, of whom his biographer says, "her 
century put her at the head of all women," and 
the annals of the convent of which she afterwards 
became abbess, "as most illustrious in learning and 
religion. " 

"The men," says Dr. Storrs, "represented col- 
liding tendencies. Two systems, two ages, came 
into shattering conflict in their persons. It was 
heart against head; a fervent sanctity against the 
critical and rationalizing temper; an adoring faith 
in mysterious truths, believed to have been an- 
nounced by God, against the dissolving and destruc- 
tive analysis which would force those truths into 
subjection to the human understanding. It was 
the whole series of the Church Fathers, fitly and 
signally represented by Bernard, against recent 
thinkers who questioned everything, who refused 
to be bound by any authority." 

It was many years, however, after their antag- 
onism was felt and known, before these two men 
met to join issue in open discussion before the 
Council of Sens. Abelard, skilled in dialectics and 
a practised debater, who had been victorous in many 
wordy conflicts with opposers, was eager for it and 
requested it as a privilege; Bernard went to it re- 

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luctantly and consented only when urged to it by 
the earnest entreaty of friends and the authorita- 
tive summons of the archbishop of Rheims, to call 
this bold innovator to account for his heresies and 
defend the faith of the Church from their mis- 
chief. 

The Council was an imposing assembly, at which 
were present the king of France and many nobles 
and prelates of high rank. A considerable part of 
it consisted of the friends and followers of Abelard, 
who expected that he would successfully defend 
himself from the accusations with which he was 
charged. Bernard, put forward as the champion of 
Orthodoxy and the defender of the Church, entered 
upon his task simply and naturally. "He had col- 
lected passages from the writings of Abelard, seven- 
teen in number, which he judged heretical and con- 
trary to the faith of the Church, and he called for 
the reading of these, that Abelard might declare 
whether he recognized them as his own and then 
might either retract or defend them. A hush of 
attention and expectancy pervaded the assembly. 
But the clerk had hardly begun to read when Abe- 
lard rose and interrupted him, to the astonishment 
of all, by saying that he would not then discuss 
the points in question, that he appealed to the 
pope for judgment; then abruptly left the hall. 
Bernard, amazed at his action, tried to stop him. 
He earnestly assured Abelard that nothing of harm 
was intended to his person, that he might answer 
freely and in perfect security, that he would be 
heard with patience, and would not be checked or 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

smitten by a premature sentence. In vain; he 
would not be detained, and "Abelard went from 
the council to the street on that June day a beaten 
and broken man." Why he did so, what the cause 
of his sudden panic and flight from this council 
to which he had come so confident of vindication, 
is one of the puzzles of ecclesiastical history. 

After he had gone, Bernard insisted, notwith- 
standing, that the trial proceed by the examina- 
tion of the passages taken from his writings, and a 
judgment upon them be given by the council. 
Fourteen of them in regard to the Trinity and the 
divine nature of Christ, his redemptive work, and 
the nature of sin as rooted in the present intention 
were condemned. At the request of the bishops, 
the action of the council was reported by Bernard 
to the pope, and, in turning over the case to him 
for decision he energetically urged the prompt con- 
demnation of the defendant; and Abelard, largely 
through Bernard's influence, was condemned by 
the pope with his writings, which were consigned 
to the flames. He was furthermore enjoined to 
keep silent thereafter, and sentenced to be im- 
prisoned in a convent, the condemnation being de- 
termined upon and the sentence proclaimed before 
Abelard, who was on his way to Rome, reached the 
holy city. Such treatment, of course, was unjust, 
but it was according to the habit of those times, 
and excused with the plea that Abelard's heresies 
were very dangerous and fast spreading, and that 
prompt action was imperative to arrest them. But 
injustice and wrong are not excused for such reasons; 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

they remind us of the clamor to Pilate against 
Jesus and his teaching as dangerous to the Jewish 
hierarchy. 

Abelard found a friend and protector in Peter 
the Venerable, the abbot of the rich monastery 
of Clugni, one of the noblest churchmen of his time, 
as strictly orthodox as Bernard himself, sweet- 
spirited and benignant, whose Christian character 
is shown by a reported saying of his: "The rule 
of Benedict is always subordinate to the law of 
charity." With him at Clugni, Abelard spent the 
remaining two years of his sad and eventful life, 
the pathetic story of which he tells in his " History 
of Calamities." "It is one of the saddest books ever 
written," says Dr. Storrs; and Remusat, Abelard's 
biographer, says: "No better instruction can any- 
where be given of the misery which may come with 
the most beautiful things of the world, genius, learn- 
ing, glory, love." 

We are glad to say of him, that through the 
mediation of the good Abbot of Clugni he became 
reconciled before he died with Bernard, who even 
became his friend and was so spoken of by him; 
that he was pardoned his offenses by the pope, 
and "permitted again to use and enjoy the sacred 
offices from which for a time he had been debarred." 
We are furthermore told that, in those last years, 
"his manner was humble, he was diligently ob- 
servant of the sacraments and of prayer, that he 
was truly penitent for his past sins, and that the 
good Abbot said in view of his good influence upon 
them, that "a divine arrangement had sent this 

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BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX 

honored philosopher and servant of Christ, en- 
riching the monastery with a gift more precious 
than of gold and topaz." In view of all which, 
we may acquiesce in the words of his biographer: 
"We need not mourn too much for his sad life; 
he lived in keen suffering and he died in humilia- 
tion, but he had his glory, and he was beloved." 

Bernard and Abelard were regarded as rivals in 
their time, and the followers of Abelard accused 
the former of jealousy because the eminence of their 
master was eclipsing his fame. But a study of 
Bernard's life and character does not allow us to 
believe this. Anything like jealousy or envy was 
foreign to his breast. He was lifted by his genuine 
goodness and sanctity above such infirmities, even 
if his great influence had not made him superior 
to them. 

The fact that Bernard was able by his influence 
to defeat and crush Abelard was no evidence either 
that Abelard's work in life was a failure. There 
was much that was good in his ideas and philo- 
sophical opinions, and this good remains a permanent 
blessing to mankind. He was the originator of 
what is known as "the moral theory of the atone- 
ment," that "it was needed and intended to en- 
kindle in us such love toward God as should effec- 
tually incline us to do His will, and make us ready 
for suffering and service in His cause." Dr. Storrs 
sums up correctly, we think, the truth in regard 
to him: "As we think of him in his relations to the 
Abbot of Clair vaux we may confidently believe that 
while they never might have been able to see eye 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

to eye in their contemplation of the problems of 
theology, as presented in their time, they did attain 
a perfect harmony when passing beyond the mortal 
limitations. . . . And certainly we know that the 
special impulses represented by either, perhaps 
represented extravagantly by either, have been com- 
bined ever since and will be to the end, in the his- 
toric development of the Church." 



110 



IV 
RICHARD BAXTER 



IV 
RICHARD BAXTER 

1615-1691 

Richard Baxter is the most interesting and 
picturesque figure among the old English divines. 
"If he had lived in primitive times," says an eminent 
English bishop, "he would have been one of the 
Fathers of the Church." Born November 12, 1615, 
of pious parents of the middle class, he received a 
careful religious training. His first decisive religious 
impressions were experienced in his fifteenth year. 
To dispel remorse for a petty theft of fruit from a 
neighbor's orchard, he took up and began to read an 
old, torn volume which he found at home, "Bunny's 
Resolution," by a Jesuit author. It excited in his 
troubled soul the desire for a religious life, which 
resulted in his conversion. His decision to enter 
the ministry, formed in his nineteenth year, was due 
to the serious impressions made by his mother's 
death and his narrow escape from death which 
occurred about the same time. He was journeying 
on horseback in winter. At a certain place, where 
the frozen road ran between high, steep banks, he 
met a heavily loaded wagon. To avoid it, he urged 
his horse up the steep side of the road. His saddle- 
girth broke and he was thrown before the wheel of 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

the wagon. In a moment he would have been 
crushed, had not the horses suddenly stopped, as 
by some supernatural intervention, and he was 
dragged away from destruction. 

His early education was defective. Though one 
of the most learned men of this time, he had no 
University training. "My faults," he says, "are 
no disgrace to a University, for I was of none. I 
have little but what I had out of books and the 
inconsiderable help of country divines." His appe- 
tite for reading was keen and in the indulgence of it 
he was omnivorous. There is in his autobiography 
an oft-quoted passage, where he speaks of the wide 
range of his reading, of which the following extract 
is only a portion: "I have looked over . . . 
Erasmus, Scaliger, Salmasius, Casaubon and many 
other critical grammarians. I have read almost all 
the physics and metaphysics I could hear of . . . 
whole loads of historians, chronologers and anti- 
quaries. I despise none of their learning. All 
truth is useful; mathematics, which I have least of, 
I find a pretty manlike sport. But if I had no other 
kind of knowledge than these, what were my under- 
standing worth? — I have higher thoughts of the 
schoolmen than Erasmus had; I much value the 
method and sobriety of Aquinas, the subtilty of 
Scotus and Occam, the plainness of Durandus, the 
solidity of Ariminensis, the profundity of Brad- 
wardine, the excellent acuteness of many of their 
followers [giving the names of more than twenty] 
and many others. But how loath should I be to 
take such sauce for my food and such recreations for 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

my business! The jingling of too much and too 
false philosophy among them oft drowns the noise 
of Aaron's bells." He had, however, his favorite 
authors, to whom he gave a more particular study, 
among them, Richard Hooker; and a careful exami- 
nation of Baxter's works shows that he had studied 
deeply and learned much from the "Ecclesiastical 
Polity." 

Baxter was ordained for the ministry in his 
twenty -third year in Worcester Cathedral. After 
preaching here and there for two years or more 
without any stated charge, he entered upon his 
pastorate at Kidderminster in 1640, when he was 
twenty -five years old. "There are some three or 
four parishes in England," says Dean Stanley, 
"which have been raised by their pastors to a world- 
wide fame. Of these the most conspicuous is Kidder- 
minster. Kidderminster without Baxter would have 
nothing but its carpets." 

A Remarkable Preacher 

His preaching was characterized from the start 
by great evangelic earnestness. He so felt the 
importance of the soul's salvation and the adequacy 
of the gospel for it, that he thought that "if men 
only heard this as they ought, they could not but 
repent. And I was so foolish as to think that I had 
so much to say of such convincing force for the truth 
that men could scarcely be able to withstand it." 

Baxter's qualifications as a preacher were extra- 
ordinary. He had all the fervor and intensity of 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Whitefield united with great reasoning power. 
Besides this, he had what he calls "a familiar 
moving voice," which he knew how to manage so 
that every thought was uttered with its proper 
intonation and in which was heard "the accent of 
conviction." He took great pains with the prepara- 
tion and delivery of his sermons. It is evident from 
some passages in his writings, that he made a careful 
study of the art of preaching and that he gave much 
attention to both the matter and the manner of his 
public addresses. "In the study of our sermons," 
he says, "we are too negligent. We must study 
how to convince and get within men, and how to 
bring each truth to the quick, and not leave all this 
to our extemporary promptitude. . . . How few 
ministers preach with all their might! There is 
nothing more unsuitable to such a business than to 
be slight and dull. What! speak coldly for God and 
for men's salvation! Let the people see that you are 
in earnest; — Men will not cast away their dearest 
pleasures upon a drowsy request. A great matter 
lies in the very pronunciation and tone of speech. 
The best matter will scarcely move men if it be not 
movingly delivered. See that there be no affectation, 
but let us speak as familiarly to our people as we 
would do if we were talking to any of them personally. 
We must lay siege to the souls of sinners. In 
preaching there is intended a communion of souls and 
a communication from ours unto theirs. I have 
observed that God seldom blesseth any man's work 
so much as his whose heart is set upon success." 
From " The Reformed Pastor.") 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

His personal appearance in the pulpit matched 
well with his entrancing voice, unmistakable sincerity 
and earnestness of spirit. His countenance in 
speaking was animated, and lighted up by large, 
serious eyes, which looked the entreaty that his 
tongue uttered. Delicate health, from which he 
suffered nearly all his life and by which he was often 
brought near to death, lent additional force to his 
speech. His words were those of "a man that was 
betwixt living and dead," so that, in his own phrase, 
he "preached as a dying man to dying men." But 
there was no suggestion of feebleness in his speaking. 
Such was the strength of his reasoning and the grip 
of his thought, and his ardent spirit so energized his 
fragile frame and physical powers that he made the 
impression of remarkable tireless vigor as he advanced 
in his discourse. His style was that of genuine oral 
address, a real talking style, though he usually read 
his sermons. We have the evidence of this in his 
published works, like the "Call to the Uncon- 
verted," which contain the substance of sermons 
actually preached. Many of their passages are but 
transcripts or extracts from those sermons, preserv- 
ing for us the style and forms of thought which 
marked his preaching. Evidently this was marked, 
as Archdeacon Trench says, by "a robust and mas- 
culine eloquence." He had a strong imagination, 
and used it with rare effect when proper; but he 
possessed also the judgment and self-restraint not 
to use it when there was danger from its use of 
diverting the hearer from serious attention to the 
truth presented. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Nothing can be wiser from a rhetorical point of 
view than some of his remarks upon the sort of style 
required for successful preaching: 

"The plainest words are the most profitable 
oratory in the weightiest matters. Fineness is for 
ornament and delicacy for delight, but they answer 
not necessity. Yea, it is hard for the hearer to 
observe the matter of ornament and delicacy, and 
not be carried from the matter of necessity; for it 
usually hindereth the due operation of the matter, 
keeps it from the heart, stops it in the fancy and 
makes it seem light as the style. . . . All our 
teaching must be as plain and evident as we can 
make it. If you would not teach men, what do you 
do in the pulpit? If you would, why do you not 
speak so as to be understood?" (From "The Re- 
formed Pastor.") 

He preached with a conviction amounting to 
certainty of the truth of the Scriptures, due to a 
remarkable personal religious experience which he 
had in sickness. Having this conviction, he endeav- 
ored to impart it to his hearers. To this end it was 
his practice "so to study the Scripture as to find 
passages of it capable of simple explanation and 
appeal, which would fasten readily upon the hearer's 
mind and would occupy his daily thoughts until 
he was entirely possessed by the fact of the imme- 
diate necessity and wisdom of guiding himself by it." 
So believing the Bible, and so trying to have others 
believe it, he proved the saying true, that "nothing 
can withstand the force of the man who upon the 
most awful of all subjects is absolutely sure of 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

what he says, and is resolved that others shall 
be so, too." 

He possessed, furthermore, as a crowning excel- 
lence a real passion for saving souls. "It was 
Baxter's meat and drink," says Dr. Bates, his 
eulogist, "the life and joy of his life, to do good to 
souls." Not Whitefield, nor Wesley, nor the most 
ardent for evangelistic conquests in the ministry of 
later times, surpasses Baxter in this quality. This 
was his chief distinction as a preacher and gave 
efficacy to all his gifts, his persuasive voice, his 
countenance, his powers of reasoning, his rare 
felicity of language, his rich religious experience, his 
spirituality. 

Possessing these remarkable qualifications for 
preaching, no doubt he preached at times with great 
eloquence. The proof of it is still perceivable in his 
published works and sermons. They abound in 
passages which no one can read unmoved. If 
printed discourses, two hundred and fifty years after 
they were uttered, contain such subtle fire, able to 
kindle a cold reader to spiritual fervor, what must 
have been the flame that burned upon his tongue? 
It was an eloquence that attracted and impressed all 
classes, educated men and substantial citizens, 
likewise the humblest and poorest. "My public 
preaching," he says, "met with an attentive, diligent 
auditory. The congregation was usually full, so 
that we were fain to build five galleries after my 
coming, the church being the most commodious that 
ever I was in." It produced an immediate good 
effect upon the life of the community. "On the 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Lord's days there was no disorder to be seen in the 
streets, but you might hear a hundred families 
singing psalms and repeating sermons as you passed 
them." 

Interruption of Work by the Civil War 

The breaking out of the Civil War, in a year or two 
after his advent to the town, interrupted the good 
work so well begun in Kidderminster. Through the 
powerful influence of certain royalist families the 
town took the side of the king; but Baxter, though 
a zealous churchman and loyal to the royal family, 
was suspected of sympathizing with the Puritan 
party in the conflict because of the more obvious 
harmony of his religious opinions and practice with 
theirs, and he was publicly denounced as a traitor, 
and threatened with violence by the vicious and 
turbulent spirits of the town whose sins he reproved. 
At the entreaty of his friends he accordingly left the 
place and took refuge in the walled town of Coventry, 
where for two years he labored diligently, preaching 
twice weekly to the people and the soldiers, — " taking 
nothing from either but his diet" for his service. 
"Like men in a dry house who hear the storms 
abroad," he and his friends there heard the dreadful 
rumors and sounds of the raging conflict. One day 
while he was preaching he heard the cannonading of 
the battle of Naseby. At length he was induced to 
become the chaplain of Whalley's regiment in the 
Parliamentary army and followed it fearlessly into 
many a hard battle and desperate siege, marching 

no 



RICHARD BAXTER 

Bible in hand with Cromwell himself to the storming 
of Basing House. 

Baxter figured during the war in other scenes not 
quite so heroic though showing an equal stoutness 
of heart. The Parliamentary army abounded in 
enthusiasts and sectaries of every stripe, who were 
as ready for a theological tilt with opposers as for a 
battle with cavaliers. Baxter feeling it incumbent 
on him to defend the faith and to expose error — he 
could not sit still and keep silent when what he 
deemed dangerous heresy was being promulgated 
— never failed to improve any opportunity offered 
to encounter these men in argument. So whenever, 
for the sake of making converts to their opinions, 
they appointed a public meeting in any place, he 
would go to it and talk them down. One instance 
is described by him. "A cornet and troopers of 
Pitchford's regiment appointed a meeting in a certain 
church. I thought it my duty to be there also. I 
found a crowded congregation of poor, well-meaning 
people who came in the simplicity of their hearts to be 
deceived. I took the reading desk, and the troopers 
took the gallery, and I alone disputed against them 
from morning until almost night. If I had but gone 
out first, they would have prated what boastful words 
they listed, and made the people believe that they 
had got the best of it. Therefore I stayed it out 
until they first rose and went away. The crazy 
babblers were so discouraged that they never met 
there again. But, oh, the abundance of nonsense 
they uttered that day!" He did not suppose, how- 
ever, that he had confuted them, "There is no 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

confuting a man that saith nothing," he dryly 
remarks. "Nonsense is unanswerable, if thou hast 
enough of it." 

Opposition to Cromwell 

It is said of Baxter that "he feared no man's 
displeasure and hoped for no man's preferment." 
His attitude toward Cromwell proves this. It was 
an attitude of mingled respect and disapproval. 
He respected him for his prowess and military genius 
which were attended with such constant success, and 
for his Christian character and devotion to the 
interests of religion, by reason of which he says: 
"Godliness had countenance and reputation, also, 
as well as liberty; whereas before it was the way of 
common shame and ruin." It was this personal 
regard for Cromwell's character and work that had 
drawn Baxter to the Puritan camp and its service as 
chaplain. But he remained all the time unalterably 
opposed to Cromwell's ambition to rule, and fear- 
lessly criticized his usurpation of political power and 
authority. He went so far in his opposition as to 
think seriously, at one time, of trying to get up a 
counter movement to Cromwell's ambitious policy. 
Fortunately for him, he was stopped in his endeavor 
by illness. Cromwell would certainly have arrested 
him with an iron hand, and Pitchford's troopers 
would have been found only too willing to silence 
with their muskets the irrepressible man that had 
baffled their tongues. Having been given the 
opportunity, later, to preach before Cromwell, when 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

Protector, Baxter preached on 1 Cor. 1:10, against 
the divisions and distractions of the Church, and, 
intending to rebuke him for what he believed his 
sin, showed "how mischievous a thing it was for 
politicians to maintain such divisions for their own 
ends, that they might fish in troubled waters." 
"My plainness," says Baxter, "I heard was dis- 
pleasing to him and his courtiers, but they put up 
with it." Soon after that sermon Cromwell sent for 
Baxter, once and again, for interviews with him, 
with the aim to vindicate himself from his charges 
and disarm his hostility, but without apparent effect. 
"He began a long and tedious speech to me," says 
Baxter, "of God's providence in the change of the 
government and how God had owned it. . . . 
But I told him that we took our ancient monarchy 
to be a blessing and not an evil to the land; and 
humbly craved his patience that I might ask him 
how England had ever forfeited that blessing, and 
unto whom that forfeiture was made." 

"A few days after he sent for me again to hear my 
judgment about liberty of conscience (which he 
pretended to be most zealous for) before almost all 
his privy council; where, after another slow tedious 
speech of his, I told him a little of my judgment. 
. . . I saw that what he learned must be from 
himself, being more disposed to speak many hours 
than to hear one, and little heeding what another 
said when he had spoken himself." This is a shrewd 
criticism of Cromwell's character. Baxter's con- 
temporaries would have said, probably, that it was 
equally true of Baxter himself. 

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He was hardly just at this time in his estimate of 
the Protector and his policy. Cromwell understood 
then the doctrine of religious liberty better than 
Baxter did, and he was not actuated wholly by 
selfish ambition as his critics affirmed, but largely 
by a sincere regard for England's welfare. His 
patience with Baxter showed great magnanimity. 
"Had Baxter," says Orme, "used the same freedom 
with the royal successors of Cromwell which he used 
with him he would most probably have lost his head." 
In what he said and did he displayed indeed a fearless 
courage and he acted from conscientious motives, 
which was admirable; but we cannot give him credit 
for wisdom and prudence. He himself confessed 
as much afterwards. In his "Penitent Confessions," 
Baxter says: "I am in great doubt how far I did well 
or ill in my opposition to Cromwell; whether I should 
not have been more passive and silent than I was." 

His Return to His Work in Kidderminster 

A sickness, by which he was brought nigh to death, 
and his dissatisfaction with the course of things, 
led to his severance of his connection with the Puri- 
tan army and his return to Kidderminster, at the 
almost unanimous entreaty of his flock, after an 
absence of four years. Those four years, with the 
exciting experiences that filled them, are to be looked 
upon simply as an interesting episode in Baxter's 
ministry there. The sad things he had witnessed, 
the waste and ruin and tragic incidents of the war, 
served to intensify his earnestness and spur him on 



RICHARD BAXTER 

to greater diligence and activity in his work. His 
preaching reflected the deeper earnestness of his 
spirit and rose to a higher pitch of eloquence. For 
the space of fourteen years, from 1646 to 1660, he 
now labors there in Kidderminster as a preacher of 
the gospel with unsurpassed zeal. "Of all the 
admirable preachers," says Davies, his biographer, 
"who have influenced the religious life of the English 
people, Baxter unquestionably has the preeminence. 
No one has so convincingly reasoned in the pulpit as 
he, so powerfully urged, so effectively taught and 
moved the conscience to right decision." 

His Successful Method in the Cure of Souls 

Baxter's ministry in Kidderminster was also 
remarkable for the success with which he united in it 
the pastoral work of family visitation and private 
religious conversation with his public preaching. 
His passion for souls did not stop with the labors of 
the pulpit, nor did his conception of the duties of the 
minister limit his efforts for their spiritual welfare 
to such preaching. Both his love of souls and his 
conception of what is due from the minister to his 
flock, constrained him to labors outside the pulpit 
for their benefit. He says: "We should know every 
person that belongs to our charge; for how can we 
'take heed to the flock of God,' if we do not know 
them? Does not a careful shepherd look after every 
individual sheep, and a good physician attend every 
particular patient? Why then should not the 
shepherds and the physicians of the church take heed 

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to every member of their charge? Apostolic example 
and precept urge this. Paul taught the people 
publicly and from house to house, 'warned every 
man and taught every man that he might present 
every man perfect in Christ Jesus'; and he charges 
ministers of the gospel to 'watch for souls as those 
that must give an account.' ' The superior effect- 
iveness of "this private way of preaching" especially 
recommends it, he asserts. " One word of seasonable 
advice has done that good which many sermons have 
failed of doing. . . . Yea, I have found that an 
ignorant sot, who for a long time had been an 
unprofitable hearer, has got more knowledge and 
remorse of conscience in half an hour's close conver- 
sation than he did by ten years' public preaching." 

The reasons why this private, personal method of 
dealing with individual souls was so effective, are by 
him thus stated: 

" We have the best opportunity to imprint religious 
truth upon the heart when we can speak to each 
one's particular necessity, i.e., his particular case, 
and address him in regard to it with familiar impor- 
tunity. 

"By this means you will hear their objections, 
and discover what it is that resists the truth, and so 
may be the more able effectually to convince them. 
We can here answer their objections, drive them to 
a stand, urge them to discover their purposes for the 
future, and to promise to use the means of reforma- 
tion. 

"In private we may speak in a much plainer man- 
ner than we can in public. In public we cannot use 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

such homely expressions nor so many repetitions as 
their dullness requires, but in private we may. 

"In public our speeches are long, we quite overrun 
their understandings and their memories, so that we 
lose their attention, and they know not what we have 
been saying; but in private we may take our hearers 
with us as we go, we have them as interlocutors in 
what is said, and easily hold their attention." 

It was not until after some years that he undertook 
this private work. "My apprehensions of it were 
too small and of the difficulties too great. I thought 
that the people would scorn it and that only a few 
would submit to it. The work seemed strange to 
me and I thought my strength would never go 
through it." Having ventured, however, upon the 
experiment, the success of it more than met his 
expectations. "I find the difficulties," he says, 
"to be nothing to what I imagined, and I experience 
the benefits and comforts of the work to be such that 
I would not wish to have neglected it for all the 
riches in the world. I cannot say that one family 
hath refused or that many persons have shifted it 
off. I wonder at myself that I kept from so clear 
and excellent a duty so long. We never took the 
rightest course to demolish the Kingdom of Darkness 
till now." His rule was to "take each person alone 
and discourse with him privately. I find by experi- 
ence that in general people will bear plain and close 
dealing about their sin and their duty when you have 
them alone better than when others are present." 

His passion for saving souls prompted him to take 
another forward step with a view to pressing the 

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truth home upon every individual in his parish; he 
invited the more devout and intelligent Christians 
of the Church to cooperate in the effort with him, 
saying: "The good work is likely to go on but poorly 
if none but ministers are employed in it." In this 
he anticipated by one hundred years the ideas and 
opinions of John Wesley in regard to the importance 
and value of lay activity in the Church. He antici- 
pated Wesley also in adopting the conference and 
prayer meeting as an evangelizing agency and a 
means of the development of Christians through the 
exercise of their gifts. He testifies that "many of 
them were able to pray very laudably with others, 
while the temper of their minds and the innocency of 
their lives was more loud than their parts." Such 
meetings, usually held weekly, Baxter caused to be 
started and maintained in different parts of his 
parish; they formed a part of the net which he spread 
for souls in Kidderminster, whereby he sought to 
catch as many for. Christ as possible. 

We have dwelt at this length upon the manner 
in which Baxter fulfilled his pastoral function, 
because it forms an essential part of his ministerial 
work in Kidderminster. Without it he could not 
have accomplished the remarkable work he wrought 
there, a work so great that it transformed the moral 
and religious character of the town and gave it, as 
Stanley says, "a world-wide fame." "When I first 
came there," he says, "there was about one family 
in a street that worshipped God; when I came away 
there were some streets where there was not one 
family that did not so, and that did not by professing 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

serious godliness give in hopes of their sincerity. 
In those families which were the worst — those of 
inns and alehouses — usually some persons in each 
house did seem to be religious. If not the elders, 
their children; and then the elders were made more 
kindly disposed because of the children. Many 
children did God work upon at fourteen or fifteen 
or sixteen years of age. This did marvelously 
reconcile the minds of the parents to godliness, and 
they that before talked against godliness would not 
hear it spoken against when it was their children's 



case." 



The Reformed Pastor 



Another result of his pastoral work of visitation 
for religious conversation with individuals should 
be mentioned. It led to the writing by him of "The 
Reformed Pastor," in which he describes the work 
undertaken for the spiritual benefit of his flock, its 
method and success, that other ministers might be 
stimulated and encouraged to undertake a similar 
work for their people. From that book we have 
derived our account of what he did in this particular 
line in the "Cure of Souls." "It prevailed with 
many ministers," he says, "to set upon that work 
which I there exhort them to. Churches either rise 
or fall as the ministry doth rise or fall." 

This book, by reason of its "thoughts that breathe 
and words that burn," and its great influence upon 
subsequent generations of ministers, is one of the 
most notable in the religious literature of the world. 
Dr. Philip Doddridge speaks of it as "a most extra- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

ordinary performance," and asserts that "nothing 
would have a greater tendency to awaken the spirit 
of a minister to that zeal in his work, for want of 
which many good men are but shadows of what by 
the blessing of God they might be if the maxims and 
measures laid down in this incomparable treatise 
were strenuously pursued." It is a book of undecay- 
ing vitality and, consequently, of perennial value. 
In this belief, the founder of Wellesley College, 
Mr. Henry C. Durant, in his awakened zeal for the 
spread of religion, bought up a large number of them 
for distribution among the ministers of Massachu- 
setts, to the great spiritual profit, no doubt, of 
those ministers and their congregations. 

Baxter's Published Works 

Boswell once asked Dr. Johnson which of Baxter's 
works he recommended him to read. "Read any 
of them," he replied, "they are all good." This, 
however, was a careless answer. Baxter's works 
are not all good, nor is any one of them equally good 
throughout. If there were no other reason, he 
wrote too much for uniform excellence. His pub- 
lished works numbered more than 170 volumes. 
Besides this, many of them, being controversial and 
upon questions no longer living, would now be to 
any one but a church historian dull and unprofitable 
stuff to read. He often began a controversy in his 
young manhood without sufficient consideration, 
and was forced later to shift his ground, and so fell 
into self-contradictions and glaring inconsistencies, 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

which his opponents pointed out to his discomfiture. 
One of them compiled a volume composed of the 
irreconcilable utterances discoverable in Baxter's 
works, and entitled it "A Dialogue between Richard 
and Baxter." Bishop Burnet truly says, he "med- 
dled in too many things," and "was most unhappily 
subtle and metaphysical in everything." But what- 
ever may be the contradictions and unprofitable 
stuff found in any work, such were the genius and 
piety of the man that, as Dean Stanley says "there 
run through it golden threads and solid strands which 
redeem it from ignominy, and at times are woven 
into patches and fringes of glorious splendor." 

In his old age he confessed as a fault the con- 
troversial propensity and errors displayed by him 
in earlier years and thus explains how it happened: 
"To tell the truth, while I busily read what other 
men said in these controversies, my mind was so 
prepossessed with their notions that I could not 
possibly see the truth in its own native and naked 
evidence ; and when I entered into public disputations 
concerning it, though I was truly willing to know the 
truth, my mind was so forestalled with borrowed 
notions that I chiefly studied how to make good the 
opinions I had received, and ran farther from the 
truth. Yea, when I read the truth in Dr. Preston's 
and other men's writings I did not consider and 
understand it, and when I heard it from them whom 
I opposed in wrangling disputations, or read it in 
books of controversy, I discerned it least of all; till 
at last being in my sickness cast far from home, where 
I had no book but my Bible, I set to study the truth 

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from thence and so by the blessing of God discovered 
more in one week than I had done before in seven- 
teen years' reading, hearing and wrangling/' 

His Practical Works 

Baxter's great merit as an author rests chiefly 
upon his practical works. The most notable of these, 
besides the "Reformed Pastor" are: "The Saint's 
Rest," "A Call to the Unconverted," "Reasons 
for the Christian Religion," "The Right Method 
for a Settled Peace of Conscience," "The Cru- 
cifixion of the World by the Cross of Christ," 
"Dying Thoughts," and "Reliquae Baxterianae" 
— "Baxter's Narrative of his Life and Times." The 
"Saint's Rest" was his first as well as most widely 
known book. It was written in his thirty fourth 
year, when "sentenced to death" by his physicians. 
Its design was to be "a directory for getting and keep- 
ing the heart in heaven by heavenly meditation," 
and he put into it such directions as he had found 
good for himself when expecting soon to die. Books 
of this kind, in which are distilled the heart's real 
experiences and which, as John Milton says, "pre- 
serve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction 
of the living intellect that bred them," touch men 
most deeply and live long. The "Saint's Rest" is, 
therefore, still a live book. So likewise are his other 
practical writings that have been mentioned. Their 
thoughts are good for all time, and expressed in a 
remarkable style. "There reigns in it," as Arch- 
bishop Trench says, "a robust and masculine elo- 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

quence, nor does it want from time to time rare and 
unsought felicity of language, which once heard can 
scarcely be forgotten." These words of Trench 
concerning Baxter's style, "rare and unsought felicity 
of language," express the literal truth about it. It 
was "rare," but not, like the style of Cardinal New- 
man and Stevenson, the result of painstaking toil 
and long effort. Its "felicity" was "unsought"; it 
was natural to him, the unstudied manner in which 
his thought expressed itself. "Probably," says one 
of his admirers, "he never consumed forty minutes 
in as many years in the mere selection and adjust- 
ment of words." And Baxter himself says of his 
published writings: "I scarce ever wrote one sheet 
twice over, nor stayed to make any blots or inter- 
lineations, but would fain let it go as it was first con- 
ceived." His earnest mind in its expression of the 
good thoughts within him chose instinctively the 
right language, such language as most aptly and 
happily clothed what he wanted to say. 

It must be confessed, however, that all his practical 
writings have one obvious fault, that of redundancy 
of thought, not of language. Though Isaac Barrow 
affirms that "they were never mended," the affirma- 
tion is not strictly true. They have been really 
improved and made more readable by considerable 
abridgment. It is the fault of an affluent mind that 
from its fulness overflows to excess. But in every 
book he wrote there are passages that are remarkable 
for their conciseness, force and beauty. There are 
gems of thought on almost every page, which enrich 
the unprofitable stuff, as the diamonds the blue 

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ground in the South African mines, in which they 
lie embedded. Take the following examples : " When 
half is unknown, the other half is not half known." 
"Truth is so dear a friend, and he that sent it is so 
much more dear, that whatever I suffer I dare not stifle 
or conceal it" " The melody of music is better known 
by hearing it than by reports of it. So there is a latent 
sense in us of the effects of the gospel in our hearts, 
which will ever cause us to love it and to hold it fast." 

Baxter's Work after the Restoration of the 
Monarchy 

At the Restoration, Baxter, because of his promi- 
nence in England as a clergyman and religious 
writer, and his great influence among the Dissenters 
and Moderate Churchmen, was invited to take a 
leading part in the consideration and discussion of 
some of the questions which then engaged the atten- 
tion of the nation, the king and his court. Holding 
a foremost place among these questions was, whether 
concessions should be made and pains taken to gain 
the Dissenters or not, especially the Presbyterians, 
to representatives of whom the king at Breda, before 
his return to England, had promised that if restored 
to the throne of his father he would grant "liberty 
and consideration for tender consciences," and that 
"no man should be molested for differences of opinion 
in matters of religion." Lord Chancellor Hyde, the 
Earl of Clarendon, was apparently for concession, 
and, Bishop Burnet says, "got the king to publish 
a declaration, soon after his restoration, concerning 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

ecclesiastical affairs, to which if he had stood, very 
probably the greatest part of them might have been 
gained. But the bishops did not approve of this, 
. . . and instead of using methods to bring in 
these sectaries, they resolved rather to seek the most 
effectual ones for casting them out." 

The bishops managed, by rekindling the animosi- 
ties produced by the Civil War, and by infusing into 
the mind of the king distrust of the loyalty of the 
Dissenters, to bring over the king to their side. 
Burnet says that under his compliance, however, the 
king concealed the design of favorable legislation for 
popery. " Nothing could make toleration for popery 
pass (he thought) but the having great bodies of 
men put out of the Church and put under severe 
laws, which should force them to move for a tolera- 
tion and should make it reasonable to grant it to 
them. And it was resolved that whatever should 
be granted of that sort should go in so large a manner 
that Papists should be comprehended in it." The 
King's "Declaration" was no doubt shaped by this 
secret purpose and was less moderate and concilia- 
tory than had been anticipated. "When we received 
this copy of the Declaration," says Baxter, "we saw 
that it would not serve to heal our differences. We 
therefore told the Lord Chancellor that our endeavors 
as to concord would all be frustrated if much were 
not altered in the Declaration." Baxter was chosen 
to put their objections to it in a petition, which he 
wrote with his usual warmth and frankness. When 
this was laid before his associates, "they were 
troubled," says Baxter, "at the plainness of it. It 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

was not my unskillfulness in a more pleasing 
language, but my reason and conscience upon fore- 
sight of the issue which were the cause." He refused 
to alter it, until "they told me it would not so much 
as be received and that I must go with it myself, for 
nobody else would." The petition, as altered, was 
still "ungrateful" and rejected by the Lord Chan- 
cellor. 

Finally, after considerable more parleying, the 
following course, according to Baxter's account 
(abridged), was decided upon: "A day was appointed 
for his majesty to peruse (in their presence) the 
Declaration, as it was drawn up by the Lord Chan- 
cellor, and to allow what he liked, and alter the rest 
upon the hearing of what both sides had to say." 

The following account of the interview of the 
Nonconformists with the king is given by Baxter: 
"The business of the day was not to dispute, but as 
the Lord Chancellor read over the 'Declaration,' each 
party was to speak to what it disliked, and the king 
to determine how it should be, as he liked himself. 
. . . The great matter which we stopped at was 
the word 'consent' (where the bishop is to confirm 
by the 'consent' of the pastor of the church) .... 
The King would by no means pass the word 'consent' 
either then, or in the point of ordination, or censures; 
because it gave the ministers a negative voice [thus 
limiting the bishop's power and authority]. I insisted 
that, though 'consent' be but a little word, it was 
necessary to a very desirable end, union, which would 
not be attained if no consent were allowed ministers 
in any part of the government of their flocks. 

1S6 



RICHARD BAXTER 

"The most of the time being spent thus in speak- 
ing to particulars of the Declaration, as it was read, 
when we came to the end, the Lord Chancellor drew 
out another paper and told us that the king had been 
petitioned also by the Independents and Anabaptists, 
and though he knew not what to think of it himself 
and did not very well like it, yet something he had 
drawn up which he would read to us, and desire us 
also to give our advice about it." Thereupon he 
read, as an addition to the declaration, "that others 
also be permitted to meet for religious worship, so be 
it they do it not to the disturbance of the peace, and 
that no justice of peace or officer disturb them!" 

Had this "addition" been promptly accepted by 
both parties and incorporated in the declaration, 
and the whole at once enacted into the law of the 
realm, the "union" sought would have been achieved. 
But after the reading of it, "all were silent," says 
Baxter. "The Presbyterians perceived, as soon as 
they heard it, that it would secure the liberty of 
the Papists; and Dr. Wallis whispered this in my 
ear, but entreated me to 'say nothing,' and to let 
the bishops speak to it. But the bishops would 
not speak a word, nor any one of the Presbyterians. 
. . . I knew, if we consented to it, it would be 
charged on us that we spoke for a toleration of 
Papists and Sectaries; and if we spoke against it, 
all sects and parties would be set against us as the 
causers of their sufferings. At last, seeing the silence 
continue, I thought our very silence would be 
charged on us as consent, if it went on, and therefore, 
I said only this: "This reverend brother (pointing 

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to Dr. Gunning, a leader of the Episcopal party) 
even now speaking against the sects, named the 
Papists and the Socinians; for our parts we desired 
not favor to ourselves alone, and rigorous severity 
we desired against none; but we distinguished the 
tolerable parties from the intolerable. For the 
latter, such as the two sorts named by that reverend 
brother, for our parts, we could not make their 
toleration our request." 

It was one of the faults of Baxter that he was not 
always self-consistent in what he said and did. We 
have here a notable instance. Previously, in the 
days of Cromwell's protectorate, he was on the com- 
mittee to settle the fundamentals of religion as a 
basis of toleration and religious liberty, and what 
he then proposed as fundamental was objected to as 
something " which might be subscribed by a Papist or 
Socinian." "So much the better," was Baxter's reply, 
" and so much the fitter it is to be the matter of concord." 
At the time of the conference with the king and 
Clarendon he was probably of the same opinion still, 
though what he now said in objection to "the 
addition" seemed opposed to the former opinion. 
The explanation of it is, that he volunteered at this 
time to speak for the Presbyterian members of the con- 
ference, rather than for himself. As we look back 
upon it, the objection thus prompted was ill-timed 
and most unfortunate, defeating the cause of tolera- 
tion and religious liberty most dear to his heart. 
If Baxter, always too forward to speak, had restrained 
his tongue on this occasion with the rest, the religious 
toleration, not only of the Papists, which the king 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

desired, but of all the Nonconformist bodies, Presby- 
terians, Independents, Anabaptists, Quakers and 
Socinians (tolerance of which the Episcopalians 
opposed), would have been then and there secured. 
Why did he not say "Yes"? Because he did not 
now openly avow his former opinion undisturbed by 
the disapproval which he read on the faces of those 
about him. "I should as willingly be a martyr for 
charity as for faith," is one of his famous sentences. 
It is a pity that this sentiment did not fortify his 
resolution at that moment. But the intolerant 
atmosphere he breathed may have clouded at the 
time his spirit, — or he may not have reached the 
positive conviction of his later years. Why did not 
the Presbyterians say " Yes' ' ? Because John Knox's 
hatred of popery was still felt by them. Why did 
not the bishops say "Yes," and avoid the infamy they 
incurred by the "Act of Uniformity," the "Test 
Acts," and the cruel persecutions they relentlessly 
waged against the Nonconformists the next twenty 
five years? Because they remembered the persecu- 
tions of the Romish Church under Mary Tudor a 
hundred years before, and shared the horror of the 
majority of the English people for the papacy on 
account of them; a horror kept alive among the 
English people by Fox's "Book of Martyrs," which 
with his Bible John Bunyan carried with him to his 
prison, and the reading of which made him and other 
sufferers from Episcopal intolerance prefer to endure 
these sufferings rather than purchase religious liberty 
by extending it to Papists. The dread of having 
their land come again under the dominion of the 

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Romish Church haunted, and still haunts, the 
majority of the people of Great Britain like a per- 
sistent nightmare. 

"When I went out from the meeting I went out 
dejected," says Baxter, "satisfied that the form of 
government outlined in that 'Declaration' would not 
be satisfactory, because the pastors had no govern- 
ment of the flocks." 

Before it was published, however, it was so 
modified through the influence of two great nobles, 
that the chief objection found in the conference over 
it was removed. "The word 'consent 9 in regard to 
confirmation and the sacrament was put in, though 
not as to jurisdiction." Because of this concession 
Baxter agreed to "do his best" to induce all to 
conform according to the terms of the Declaration. 

To strengthen the bond which held him but slightly 
to the State Church, the Lord Chancellor offered him 
the bishopric of Hereford, which he declined. 

The Savoy Conference 

In his "Declaration" the king had intimated that 
the liturgy of the Church should be revised and 
certain alterations adopted to meet the wishes of the 
Nonconformists. In fulfillment of this promise a 
commission was issued under the great seal empower- 
ing chosen representatives of both sides to meet for 
the purpose. The Archbishop of York and twelve 
bishops represented the Episcopal side, and eleven 
Nonconformist ministers, of whom Baxter was one, 
the other side. The place of meeting for the con- 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

sideration and discussion of the alterations desired 
was the Savoy palace, the official residence of the 
bishop of London. In this conference, which was 
limited to three months and recognized in English 
history as singular and notable, Baxter was the pro- 
tagonist of the Nonconformist party. At its open- 
ing meeting the Bishop of London, speaking for his 
side, said, as Baxter reports: "it was not they but 
we (the Nonconformists) that had been the seekers 
of this Conference, and who had desired alterations 
in the liturgy; and therefore they had nothing to say 
or do till we had brought in all we had to say against 
it in writing, and all the additional forms and altera- 
tions which we desired." "I was wholly of his 
mind," says Baxter, " and prevailed with my brethren 
to consent. We accepted of the task which they 
imposed upon us, yet so as to bring all our exceptions 
at one time, and all our additions at another time." 

In the division of this task, the companions of 
Baxter distributed among themselves the selection 
of exceptions to the Common Prayer Book, and he 
took the additions or new forms to be proposed. 
With characteristic energy and dispatch he per- 
formed his work in a fortnight, and finding his 
brethren still toiling over theirs, took hold and helped 
them with a paper of such exceptions as occurred 
to him. 

When they submitted their work to the bishops, 
they found them indisposed to accept any of the 
changes proposed, and ready stoutly to defend 
liturgy and prayer book, as if it were a profanation 
to alter them in any particular, though after the 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

conference, when the heat of their joint discussion 
was over, they agreed among themselves to con- 
siderable additions and alterations. 

Bishop Burnet gives an interesting contemporary 
view of the conference. He says: "The two men 
that had the chief management of the debate were 
the most unfit to heal matters, and the fittest to 
widen them that could have been found. Baxter was 
the opponent, and Gunning (afterwards made bishop 
of Ely) was respondent. He was noted for a special 
subtlety of arguing. All the arts of sophistry were 
made use of by him on all occasions in as confident a 
manner as if they had been sound reasoning. Baxter 
and he spent some days in much logical arguing to 
the diversion of the town, who thought here were a 
couple of fencers engaged in disputes that could 
never be brought to an end, or have any good effect." 

No "good effect," or gain to religion, or to the 
cause of truth ever resulted from such a discussion. 
Baxter himself learned this, later, to his complete 
satisfaction, and describes the result in most expres- 
sive language: "I have 'perceived" he says, "that 
nothing so much hindereth the reception of the truth as 
urging it on men with too harsh importunity, and falling 
too heavily on their errors; for hereby you engage their 
honor in the business, and they defend their errors as 
themselves and stir up all their wit and ability to oppose 
you. In a learning way men are ready to receive the 
truth, but in a disputing way, they come armed against 
it with prejudice and animosity." 

And so the efforts which Baxter and his Noncon- 
forming associates made for the religious peace and 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

concord of their torn and distracted land, and from 
which they had hoped so much, ended in utter, dis- 
astrous failure. The "Convocation" soon adopted 
additions to the prayer book that made it still more 
repugnant to them, and Parliament passed an Act of 
Uniformity with new forms of subscription that were 
far harder to bear than the old ones were. The 
baleful mischief wrought by the Act to the civil and 
religious welfare of England is thus candidly stated 
by that eminent churchman, the late Professor 
Benjamin Jowett, Master of Balliol, Cambridge; 
"On August 22, the Nonconformist ministers (2000 
of them) were finally expelled by the Act of Uniform- 
ity. That was the greatest misfortune that has 
ever befallen this country, a misfortune that has 
never been retrieved. For it has made two nations 
of us instead of one, in politics, in religion, almost in 
our notion of right and wrong; it arrayed one class 
of society permanently against another, and many 
of the political difficulties of our own time have their 
origin in the enmities caused by the rout of August 
22, 1662, called 'Black Bartholomew's Day,' which 
Baxter vainly strove to avert."* 

Baxter, though a minister of the Established 
Church and greatly beloved by most of the people 
of his parish which he had so greatly blessed by his 
ministry and exalted to a place of lasting honor 
among the parishes of the Christian world, was 
deprived by the ecclesiastical authorities of his 
charge in Kidderminster. His offense was the 

* Sermons, Biographical and Miscellaneous, by Benjamin Jowett — E. P. Dutton 
& Co., Pub. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

unpardonable one in the eyes of the restored mon- 
archy and the ruling churchmen, of being eminent 
for piety and of holding the religious opinions of the 
discredited Puritan party, that had ceased from 
power with the death of Cromwell, and of earnestly 
reaffirming the doctrines of their own great divines, 
Jeremy Taylor and Chillingworth, in regard to 
religious toleration and liberty of conscience, and of 
having endeavored in conference with them to get 
their consent to have these doctrines incorporated 
in the law of the land for the sake of its peace and 
the religious quiet of all. On this account his 
reasonable request to be formally invested by the 
new government with the vicarship of the town was 
refused and he was practically deposed, after two 
years, from the ministry. Though the most powerful 
preacher in England, he was forbidden to preach, or 
minister to any other flock, and thus doomed to 
silence for nearly the remainder of his days, a period 
of about thirty years. 

For this exclusion of Baxter from his minsterial 
work, Morley, his diocesan bishop, was chiefly 
responsible. He had acquired for Baxter an implac- 
able dislike, most unchristian and indefensible, from 
which he never relented. 

And because of Baxter's prominence in the religious 
world he was ever an object of bitter persecution. 
"When I sit in a corner," he says, "and meddle with 
nobody and hope the world will forget that I am 
alive, court, city and country are still filled with 
clamors against me." No unprejudiced, fair-minded 
man can read of the unjust treatment he received 

144 



RICHARD BAXTER 

from court and prelates, especially from Bishop 
Morley, without hot indignation. 

But God gave to him the comfort of good friends, 
among whom was Sir Matthew Hale, and a romantic 
consolation in the shape of a lovely wife, Margaret 
Charleton, a young woman of beauty, refinement, and 
of high social position, who, touched by his wrongs 
and reverencing his saintly character, delicately 
offered herself to him in marriage, to be the sharer 
of his obloquy and the comforter of his heart in his 
affliction. Her friends and acquaintances endeav- 
ored in vain to turn her from her purpose. They 
disparaged him as a man of ignoble birth, of "a 
family so obscure that no one could tell whence he 
came." " True," she replied, " but I know where he is 
going and I want to go with him." "It was rung 
about everywhere," says Baxter, "partly as a won- 
der, partly as a crime, and the king's marriage was 
scarcely more talked of than mine." The marriage 
proved a happy one; and with the blessing of his 
wife's society and love he found it easy to endure the 
trials of ejectment from the ministry with its enforced 
silence and continued persecution in addition to the 
misery of poor health. 

Though his tongue was silenced by the ban put 
upon his preaching, his pen continued to be busy in 
spite of his poor health. Some of his best works, 
like "Dying Thoughts" and the "Narrative of His 
Life," were produced in this period. "The Dying 
Thoughts," like "The Saint's Rest," was written by 
him primarily for his own use. He was for a long 
time "unresolved whether anyone else should ever 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

see it." He finally gave it to a publisher in the 
hope that "the same thoughts may be useful to 
others that are so for me. If those men's lives were 
spent in serious thoughts of death who are now 
studying to destroy each other and tear in pieces a 
distressed land, they would prevent much dolorous 
repentance." The "Dying Thoughts" contains just 
such thoughts, expressed in Baxter's best style, as 
are appropriate and helpful to one nearing death, or 
supposes he is, because of failing health. They 
exhibit the calm serenity of one who through the 
power of the gospel is able to contemplate death 
not only with composure but with a holy joy. The 
book has given comfort to many people in the pros- 
pect of death. It gave consolation, in particular, to 
the celebrated Lord William Russell before his exe- 
cution, a judicial murder in the reign of Charles II. 
Some of the works of Baxter, written at this time 
with the most excellent intention of promoting 
religious harmony, failed sadly of their purpose. 
Instead, like his endeavors at the Savoy conference, 
they drew upon him a more bitter and determined 
hostility and much savage criticism and abuse. 
The cause, apparently, was his unfortunate, offensive 
manner of approaching and attacking the position 
of opponents. Orme, his biographer, says — in com- 
paring his character and mode of discussion with 
those of the celebrated Dr. Owen — "Baxter was 
sharp and cutting, and disposed to push matters 
further than the circumstances of the times admitted. 
The deportment of Owen was bland and conciliating 
compared with that of Baxter. Hence Owen fre- 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

quently made friends of enemies, while Baxter often 
made enemies of friends." 

A notable illustration of this is found in his famous 
controversy with Edward Bagshaw, a former friend 
and champion of his cause against Bishop Morley, 
who took offense at a book published by Baxter, 
entitled "A Cure for Church Divisions," which Bag- 
shaw thought reflected too severely and unjustly upon 
some Dissenters, and wrote a reply to it. This reply 
called out from Baxter a rejoinder, which Bagshaw 
answered with "A Defense." This, Baxter hotly 
declared to be "full of untruths which the furious 
and temerarious man did utter out of the rashness of 
his mind." This drew from Baxter "A Second Ad- 
monition" to Mr. Bagshaw, "written to call him to 
repentance for many false doctrines and especially 
fourscore palpable untruths in matters of fact." 
Again Bagshaw replied with "A Review: All of Mr. 
Baxter's Calumnies Refuted," to which Baxter fi- 
nally rejoined with "The Church told of Mr. Ed- 
ward Bagshaw's Scandal." Of this last rejoinder, 
Baxter says: "About the day that it came out, Mr. 
Bagshaw died a prisoner, which made it grevious to 
me to think that I must seem to write against the 
dead"; and then, as if condemning his own part in 
the controversy as utterly futile and foolish, he adds : 
"While we wrangle here in the dark we are dying 
and passing to the world that will decide all our 
controversies; and the safest passage thither is by 
peaceable holiness." 

Doubtless his feeling of the shocking impropriety 
of this bitter controversy, in view of its sad conclusion 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

was heightened by the thought that Mr. Bagshaw 
had once been his friend and former defender. 

"Each spoke words of high disdain 
And insult to his heart's best brother: 
They parted, ne'er to meet again!" 



"I cannot forgive myself," he says, later on in life, 
"for rash words or deeds by which I have seemed less 
tender and kind than I should have been to my near 
and dear relations. When such are dead, every sour 
or cross provoking word which I gave them maketh 
me almost unreconcilable with myself, and tells me 
how repentance brought some of old in the hurry of 
their passion to pray to the dead whom they had 
wronged to forgive them." 

The affair with Mr. Bagshaw had no transient 
effect on Baxter's mind. It appears to have wrought, 
besides the compunction of heart shown by the 
words that have been quoted, a deep and permanent 
change in him. Whereas he had been, as Dean 
Stanley says, "provokingly contentious, at times 
captious beyond endurance," sharp and cutting in his 
reproofs, and disposed (in his eagerness to refute 
opponents in controversy), as Orme says, "to push 
matters further than the circumstances of the times 
admitted," he became at last tolerant and gentle 
toward those who differed from him in their religious 
and theological opinions, until he arrived at the 
point of saying: "Almost all the contentions of 
divines, — the sects, the factions, the unreconciled 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

feuds, the differences in religion, which have been 
the taunt of the devil and of his emissaries in 
the world, have come from pretended knowledge 
and of taking uncertain for certain truths. Richard 
Baxter, by God's blessing, on long and hard studies 
hath learned to know that he knoweth but lit- 
tle, and to suspend his judgment of uncertainties 
and to take great, necessary and certain things for 
the food of his faith and comfort, and the measure 
of his church communion." 

He made the motto of those last years of his life 
the now familiar maxim of all tolerant Christians: 
"In necessary things unity, in unnecessary things 
liberty, in all things charity" which he had discovered 
in a Latin treatise of Rupertus Meldenius, an obscure 
German writer and conciliatory theologian of the 
seventeenth century, and "which," says Dean 
Stanley, "has gradually entered into universal 
literature and been deemed worthy of the great 
Augustine, who, I fear, with all his power and piety 
never, or hardly ever, wrote anything so good or so 
wise as this." 

The great change wrought in Baxter bore precious 
fruit in his last uncompleted literary work, the "Nar- 
rative of His Own Life," published after his death. 
We refer especially to the last twenty pages or 
thereabouts of the First Part, where he reviews the 
changes that had occurred in his own mind, and in 
his opinions and conclusions "since the unriper times 
of his youth." "It stands," says Dean Stanley, 
"in the very foremost rank of autobiographical 
reflections; and I make bold to say that in permanent 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

practical instruction it as much exceeds anything 
even in the 'Confessions' of Augustine, as in ordi- 
nary fame it falls below them." Stanley's attention 
was directed to it as a remarkable piece of literature 
by Sir James Stevens. "Lose not a day in reading 
it," Stevens said. "You will never repent of it." 
"That very night I followed his advice," says 
Stanley, "and I have ever since, publicly and 
privately, advised every theological student to do 
the same." As Stanley pronounces it "the very 
flower of Baxter's writings" I shall be justified 
in dwelling upon and quoting from it at some 
length. 

Contrasting what he was and thought as a young 
man with what he had become through his enlighten- 
ing experiences and the mental growth and studies 
of years, he says: "I was then like a man of quick 
understanding that was to travel a way which he 
never went before, or to cast up an account which 
he never labored in before. ... I am now like 
one of a somewhat slower understanding, who is 
traveling a way which he hath often gone, and is 
casting up an account which he hath ready at hand, 
so that I can very confidently say, my judgment is 
much sounder and firmer than it was then." 

In his review he touches upon a considerable num- 
ber of subjects, all interesting, but our limited space 
forbids our reference to but few. The quality, how- 
ever, of "his riper thoughts," as contrasted with 
those of "the unriper times of his youth," in which, 
as recalled, he says: "I find the footsteps of my 
unfurnished mind and of my emptiness and insuffi- 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

ciency," may be guessed by quoting what he says 
on these few topics selected: 

The Profit of Meditation on Heavenly Blessedness 

"I perceive that it is the object which alter eth 
and elevateth the mind, which will resemble that 
which it most frequently feedeth on. It is not only 
useful to our comfort to be much in heaven in 
believing thoughts; it must animate all our other 
duties and fortify us against every temptation and 
sin. The love of the end is the poise or spring which 
setteth every wheel a-going." 

Increasing Consciousness of Personal Ignorance in 
Spite of Growing Knowledge 
"Formerly I knew much less than now, and yet 
was not half so much acquainted with my ignorance. 
I had a great delight in the daily new discoveries 
which I made, and of the light which shined in upon 
me, like a man that cometh into a country where he 
never was before, but I little knew either how 
imperfectly I understood those very points whose 
discovery so much delighted me or how many things 
I yet was a stranger to. I now find far greater 
darkness in all things, and perceive how very little 
we know in comparison of that of which we are 
ignorant. I have, therefore, far meaner thoughts 
of my own understanding though I know that it is 
better furnished than it was then." 

Good and Bad Men 

"I now see that good men are not so good as 
I once thought they were, . . . that nearer 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

approach and fuller trial do make the best appear 
more weak and faulty than their admirers at a 
distance think; and I find that few are so bad as 
either malicious enemies or censorious professors do 
imagine. In some, indeed, I find that human nature 
is corrupted into a greater likeness to devils than I 
once thought; but even in the wicked, usually, there 
is more for grace to take advantage of than I once 
believed." 

Church Communion 

"I am not so narrow in my principles of Church 
communion as once I was. I am not for narrowing 
the Church more than Christ himself alloweth us 
nor for robbing him of any of his flock. I can now 
distinguish between sincerity and profession, and 
that the profession is credible that is not disproved. 
. . . I am more sensible of the sin and mischief 
of using men cruelly in matters of religion, and of 
pretending men's good and the order of the Church 
for acts of inhumanity and uncharitableness. Such 
know not their own infirmity, nor yet the nature of 
pastoral government, which ought to be paternal 
and by love; nor do they know the way to win a 
soul, or to maintain the Church's peace. I do not 
lay so much stress upon the external forms of wor- 
ship. Judgment and Charity are the cause of it. 
I cannot be so narrow in my principles of Church 
communion as many are, that are so much for a 
liturgy, or so much against it; so much for ceremonies, 
or so much against them, that they can hold com- 
munion with no church that is not of their mind and 

152 



RICHARD BAXTER 

way. ... I cannot be of their opinion, that 
think God will not accept him that prayeth by the 
Common Prayer Book; and that such forms are a 
self -invented worship, which God rejecteth; nor yet 
can I be of their mind that say the like of extempore 
prayers." 

Differences and Church Divisions of Christians 

"I am more afflicted by the disagreements of 
Christians than I was; except the case of the infidel 
world, nothing is so bad and grievous to my thoughts 
as the case of divided churches; and, therefore, I 
am more deeply sensible of the sinfulness of those 
prelates and pastors of churches who are the prin- 
cipal cause of these divisions. How is the conversion 
of infidels hindered by them and Christ dishonored! 
I think most divines do study differences a hundred 
hours for one hour that ever they study the healing 
of differences, and that is a shameful disproportion. 
Do not bend all your wits to find what more may be 
said against others, and to make the differences as 
wide as you can, but study as hard to find out men's 
agreements and to reduce the differences to as narrow 
a compass as possible. Be as industrious for the 
peace of the Church among others as if you smarted 
for it yourself; seek it, and beg it, and follow it, and 
take no nay. Be sure that you see the true con- 
troversy, and distinguish all that is merely verbal 
from that which is material; and that which is about 
methods and modes and circumstances from that 
which is about substantial truths; and that which 
is about the inferior truths, though weighty, from 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

that which is about the essentials of Christianity. 
Lay the unity of the Church upon nothing but what 
is essential to the Church. Seek after as much 
truth and purity and perfection as you can but as 
not necessary to the essence of the church or any 
member of it. Tolerate no error nor sin so far as not 
to seek the healing of it; but tolerate all error and 
sin, consistent with Christian faith and charity, so 
far as not to unchristian and unchurch men for 
them. . . . Acquaint yourselves with healing 
truths and labor to be as skillful in the work of 
pacifying and agreeing men as most are in the work 
of dividing and disagreeing. The least contested 
points are commonly the most weighty." 

His Zeal for Truth Limited to Fundamentals 

"I have lost much of the zeal which I had to 
propagate any truths save the mere fundamentals. 
When I perceive people to think they know what 
indeed they do not — which is too common — and to 
dispute those things which they never thoroughly 
studied, or to expect that I should debate the case 
with them, as if an hour's talk would serve instead 
of an acute understanding and seven years' study, I 
have no zeal to make them of my opinion . . . and 
am apt to be silent and leave them to themselves." 

The Blindness to Its Evidence of Opponents to Truth 
"We mistake men's diseases when we think there 
needeth nothing to cure their errors but only to 
bring them the evidence of the truth. Alas! there 
are many distempers of the mind to be removed 
before men are apt to receive that evidence. In 

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RICHARD BAXTER 

controversies, fierce opposition is the bellows to 
kindle a resisting zeal, when if they be let alone and 
their opinions lie awhile despised they usually cool 
and come again to themselves." 

The Sin of Pride 

"I am much more apprehensive than long ago of 
the odiousness and danger of the sin of pride, especi- 
ally in matters spiritual. I think so far as any man 
is proud, he is king to the devil and utterly a stranger 
to God and himself. It is a wonder that it should 
be a possible sin to men that still carry about with 
them in soul and body such humbling matter as we 
all do." 

Mutability of Mind 

"I find a great mutability as to the apprehensions 
and degrees of grace, and consequently find that so 
mutable a thing as the mind of man would never 
keep itself if God were not its keeper. When I have 
been seriously musing upon the reasons of Chris- 
tianity, with the concurrent evidences methodically 
placed in their just advantages before my eyes, I 
am so clear in my belief of the Christian verities that 
Satan hath little room for a temptation; but some- 
times when the foresaid evidences have been out of 
the way, or less upon my thoughts, he hath by 
surprises amazed me and weakened my faith in the 
present act." 

Suffering the Lot of the Church 

"I am more apprehensive that suffering must be 
the Church's ordinary lot, and true Christians must 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

be self-denying cross-bearers even where there are 
none but nominal Christians to be the cross-makers ; 
for ordinarily, God would have vicissitudes of 
summer and winter, day and night, that the church 
may grow externally in the summer of prosperity, and 
internally and radically in the winter of adversity; 
yet, usually, their night is longer than their day, and 
that day itself hath its storms and tempests." 

His Chief Solicitude 

"I am more solicitous about my duty to God, and 
less solicitous about his dealings with me, being 
assured that he will do all things well and that there 
is no rest but in the will and goodness of God." 

Conclusion 

"This much of the alterations of my soul since 
my younger years. . . . What I have recorded 
hath been especially to perform my vows. I have 
done it also to prevent the defective performance of 
this task by overvaluing brethren who were unfitter 
to do it than myself; and that young Christians may 
be warned by the mistakes and failings of my unriper 
times, to learn in patience, live in watchfulness, and 
not be fierce and proudly confident in their first 
conceptions; to reverence ripe, experienced age and 
to beware of taking such for their chief guides as have 
nothing but immature and inexperienced judgments 
with fervent affections and free and confident 
expressions." 

Our quotations from Baxter's last work show that 
his mind was continually progressive, growing in 

156 



RICHARD BAXTER 

spiritual insight, and freedom of thought and charity 
of opinion to the very end. 

"These counsels of moderation," as Dean Stanley 
calls them, men are slow to hear in times of heated 
controversy and bitter resentment like those in 
England during the Civil War and the reigns of the 
two last of her Stuart kings, but when the sky clears 
and a serener atmosphere comes, then they are 
heeded as sane and Christian. They so slowly make 
their way, because strong prejudices and theological 
and political rancors are slow to cool, like the lava of 
a volcano which is warm to the touch and glows with 
inward fire long after the eruption; but, nevertheless, 
they prevail at last by their intrinsic reasonableness 
and persistent power. 

We have an impressive proof of this in the case of 
Baxter, showing the increasing acceptance of his 
liberal ideas among all classes of English people. 
In a public place in Kidderminster, a striking statue 
was erected and dedicated to the memory of Baxter 
with appropriate and impressive ceremonies, July 
28, 1875. On the pedestal of the statue is the 
following inscription: 

"Between the years 1641 and 1660 

this town was the scene of the labors of 

Richard Baxter 

renowned equally for his Christian learning 

and his pastoral fidelity. 

In a stormy and divided age 

he advocated unity and comprehension 

pointing the way to the Everlasting Rest. 

Churchmen and Non -conformists 

united to raise this Memorial. A. D. 1875." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Dean Stanley made on the occasion a notable 
address, in which Baxter's character and work were 
highly eulogized; of which "unity and compre- 
hension," the things which Baxter had labored so 
hard to promote among English Christians but 
apparently in vain, were the key notes. This event, 
occurring more than two hundred years after the 
Savoy conference, shows that the character and work 
of a good man, however much misunderstood and 
misrepresented during his lifetime, will certainly at 
length be recognized. Much still remains, to be 
sure, to be accomplished before his aim will be fully 
realized. But sooner or later it will be done. The 
growing spirit of mutual toleration and respect 
among all Christians presages it; the prayer of Christ 
for his disciples, "that they all may be one that the 
world may believe," assures us of it. 

Baxter's writings and words, often and widely 
quoted, have powerfully wrought for this end. As 
gems of thought they have enriched our modern 
literature, and are symbolized by one of nature's 
wonders. Far to the north, beyond our Great 
Lakes and the Canada line, there is a ledge of jasper 
conglomerate, fragments of which torn off by the 
forces of the Ice Age and carried southward by 
glacial action are found, scattered all over Ohio, 
Indiana, Illinois and even beyond the Ohio River, 
in Kentucky, and the Mississippi, in Iowa. They 
have been gathered up to adorn public parks and 
buildings, and to enrich the geological specimens of 
college museums, have been wrought into tombstones 
for cemeteries, and into doorsteps to private dwell- 

158 



RICHARD BAXTER 

ings, all of them reminding the intelligent observer 
of the distant ledge whence they originally came. 
This ledge, with its fragments so widely scattered, 
is typical of the writings of Baxter and his influences. 

In the Court of Judge Jeffries 

In 1685, when seventy years of age, and enfeebled 
by the ill health and ailments which greatly reduced 
his strength, "so that I did but live," he says, 
Baxter was brought to trial before the infamous 
Lord Chief Justice Jeffries for his "Paraphrase on the 
New Testament," recently published, which was 
described in the indictment as "a scandalous and 
seditious book against the government." The chief 
charge was, that in certain passages indicated, he 
had reflected on the prelates of the Church of England 
and so was guilty of sedition. But as no bishops or 
clergy of the Church of England were named, and the 
author in this very book had spoken honorably of 
the bishops of this Church, his counsel truly said 
that they who had drawn up the information were 
the libelers in applying to the English prelates the 
severe things that the book contained against 
unworthy bishops of the Church of Rome, spoken of 
in Church history, who "were the plagues of the 
Church and of the world." 

To this Jeffries said that Baxter was "an enemy 
to the name and thing, the office and persons of 
bishops"; and when the prisoner ventured to speak 
in defense of himself, the Chief Justice interrupted 
and silenced him with unbridled ferocity and such 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

reviling abuse as this: "Richard, Richard, dost thou 
think we'll hear thee poison the court? Richard, 
thou art an old fellow, an old knave; thou hast 
written books enough to load a cart, every one as 
full of sedition, I might say treason, as an egg is full 
of meat," and much more of the same sort. When 
he ended, he told the jury "that if they believed the 
accused meant the bishops and clergy of the Church 
of England in the passages which the information 
referred to — and he could mean nothing else — they 
must find him guilty." When the judge had 
finished his charge, Baxter said to him: "Does your 
lordship think any jury will pretend to pass a verdict 
against me upon such a trial?" "I'll warrant you, 
Mr. Baxter," he replied. The jury fulfilled his 
expectation: Baxter was sentenced to a heavy fine 
and imprisonment until this was paid. 

He went to prison and remained in it for two 
years — when the fine was remitted by the king. 
While in prison he was cheered by visits from friends ; 
among whom were some of the most respectable 
clergy of the Established Church, who deplored the 
injustice he received. After his release, he con- 
tinued to live in London, preaching occasionally for 
his friend Sylvester while his strength permitted. 
These closing years of his life were full of suffering, 
but he continued his writing nearly to the end, the 
productions of his pen showing that the ardor and 
clearness of his mind were unimpaired. A friend 
speaking of the good many had received from his 
writings, he replied: "I was but a pen in God's 
hands; what praise is due to a pen?" Cotton 

160 



RICHARD BAXTER 

Mather, of New England, visited him the day before 
he died, and speaking some comforting words to 
him, he replied: "I have pain, there is no arguing 
against sense, but I have peace, I have peace." 

He died, December 8, 1691, in London, in the 
reign of William and Mary, surrounded by attached 
friends and reverenced by the better portion of the 
religious world. When life was almost gone, he was 
asked by one of these friends how he did. "Almost 
well," was his significant reply, in anticipation of 
the fulfillment of his hope, that "after the rough 
tempestuous day we shall at last have the quiet 
silent night — light and rest together — the quietness 
of the night without its darkness." 



ll 161 



V 
BOSSUET 



V 
BOSSUET 

1627-1705 

Adorning the four sides of the imposing fountain 
in the public square before the Church of St. Sulpice, 
Paris, are four sitting statues of heroic size. They 
represent four great French preachers, Bossuet, 
Flechier, Fenelon, and Massillon, the fame of whose 
eloquence, as it was most signally displayed in Paris, 
the city now cherishes as an important part of her 
civic glory. Of these interesting figures with their 
noble faces, that of Bossuet is fittingly reckoned the 
most striking, as he was the most distinguished of the 
four in life for his pulpit eloquence. He was the 
greatest, indeed, of all the illustrious preachers that 
adorned the reign of Louis XIV. and made it the 
Golden Age of the French pulpit. A study of his 
life is interesting and instructive as revealing the 
method by which a great preacher may be said to 
have made himself. We have found a delightful 
guide to such study in M. Eug. Gandar, the author 
of an elaborate French work entitled "Bossuet 
Orateur; Etudes Critiques sur les Sermons,"* a 
work crowned with honor by the French Academy. 

As shown by this interesting work, Bossuet be- 
came the great preacher he was, not by any easy 

* Paris, Errin et Cie, 1888. 

165 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

development of his powers, but by a course of strenu- 
ous toil, and studious, intelligent self -discipline. 
Endowed by nature with a remarkable genius, 
born an orator if any man ever was, he combined 
with his native genius and its rare capabilities an 
industry quite as remarkable, so that he illustrated 
in his person the saying, "Great genius is an infinite 
capacity for hard work." He early revealed his 
extraordinary gifts. In the Jesuit school of Dijon, 
his native city, he showed especial aptitude for the 
ancient classics, the translation of which into modern 
speech has always proved an excellent discipline 
for the development of the power of ready, precise 
and copious expression of thought. He was dedi- 
cated by his parents to the ministry. St. Bernard 
of Clairvaux was born in the same province, in the 
neighborhood of Dijon, and was constantly held up 
to him, in the conversations about the home fireside, 
as a model of piety and eloquence. To complete 
his preparatory course for the ministry, Bossuet 
was sent to Paris, at the age of fifteen, to the famous 
College of Navarre. Its headmaster at that time 
was Nicolas Cornet, whose virtues and skill as a 
teacher were thus gratefuly acknowledged by Bos- 
suet in the funeral oration he pronounced in his 
honor: "I, who found in this man, with many other 
rare qualities, an inexhaustible treasure of sage 
counsel, faithfulness, sincerity, and constant, un- 
failing friendship, cannot refuse to him here some 
tribute of a mind which in its early youth he cul- 
tivated with a fatherly kindness." Under the stimu- 
lating influence of this wise teacher he achieved 

166 



BOSSUET 

distinction in every line of study except mathe- 
matics, for which he thought he had no faculty. 

His brilliant achievements in the College soon 
became noised through the city, especially his elo- 
quent religious addresses in the College Chapel, and 
he was invited to give proof of his eloquence for the 
edification of the select company that assembled 
in the salon bleu of the Marquise de Rambouillet. 
He was brought into their presence and given a 
subject, having only a few minutes for its considera- 
tion, but no book. Thus tested, this youth of six- 
teen extemporized an eloquent sermon, which was 
prolonged until after midnight; at which one of the 
wits present said, he "never heard one preach so 
early and so late." 

For a wonder these attentions and flatteries did 
not turn his head. He remained unspoiled. M. 
Gandar says, "The progress of years and sober 
reflection put Bossuet on his guard against the 
illusions of youth, even when these seemed justified 
by the flattering eclat of the plaudits given him." 
The admiration he received assured him that he 
possessed the natural gifts of an orator; they did not 
delude him into thinking that he was already a 
consummate orator. So he labored to make him- 
self such with unwearied assiduity. 

Of what M. Gandar calls "les illusions de la 
jeunesse" by which he meant the conceits common 
to bright young men, and from which Bossuet was 
preserved by his sober judgment, or which he soon 
outgrew with the progress of years, two may well 
be mentioned. They are, first, that mere fluency , # 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

or readiness of speech, such as Bossuet had exhibited 
at the Hotel de Rambouillet, is enough to make one 
a successful and effective preacher; and, second, that 
the resources of an active, inventive mind, independ- 
ent of any help derivable from intelligent and fruit- 
ful studies, are adequate to make one a successful 
preacher. In the progress of years, both of these 
conceits are likely to be taken out of a man: they 
must be, indeed, if he achieves any success. In the 
case of some, however, the correction comes late — 
too late to retrieve the mischief of their early 
foolishness. 

Of the first of these mistakes — the overvaluation 
of fluency — it is so common and disastrous that 
fluency has come to be regarded by intelligent people 
as a "fatal gift." It is "fatal," because apt to 
incline its possessor to trust unduly to it, to the neg- 
lect of the careful thought and thorough study 
indispensable to successful public speaking. It is 
fatal to the lawyer and legislator as well as the 
preacher. Lord Chief Justice Russell, of England, 
in a recent address to a society of law-students in 
London, is reported to have spoken of this faculty 
of ready speech somewhat as follows: "It was his 
opinion that facility of speech is liable to degenerate 
into glibness of speech, and, judging from his own 
experience, the man who speaks glibly does not, as 
a rule, speak impressively or instructively. In the 
flood of his eloquence there is usually a dearth of 
ideas. What is wanted is not words, words, but 
thoughts, thoughts, thoughts." Bossuet had the 
good sense early to perceive this danger and to labor 

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BOSSUET 

diligently to improve his preaching in the essen- 
tials of thoughtfulness and adaptation to the spirit- 
ual needs of men. Four things were paramount 
in his conception of what is demanded of the good 
preacher, which things were more and more marked 
in his preaching. They were right thoughts, right 
words, right feelings — feelings in entire sympathy 
with the truth uttered — and untrammeled freedom 
in the delivery of this truth. The thoughts which 
he deemed most "right" or appropriate for the 
preacher's sermons, were the great, necessary truths 
of religion. "Speak to me of necessary truths," 
he said on his deathbed. These truths he loved 
with increasing ardor, and labored to make attrac- 
tive. "He is under the charm of the truth he 
declares," says M. Gandar, "and he thinks it so 
beautiful that none can tire of hearing it, as he could 
not tire of speaking of it." This feeling sometimes, 
in the early years of his preaching, betrayed him into 
prolixity. 

With these ideas and sentiments, more or less 
clearly defined, Bossuet entered upon his work. At 
Metz he began, spending six years in that provin- 
cial city — years of hard study and the diligent per- 
formance of the various duties of his sacred calling. 
He spoke of them afterward as the years of his ap- 
prenticeship, in which he laid the foundations of his 
ministerial success. There he found that "season 
of truce" between the educating discipline of 
school and the exacting business of the world, in 
which the power of thought freely develops and 
ripens. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

It is by a curious incident in French history that 
the knowledge of those studies and ideas, by which 
he fashioned himself, is furnished us by Bossuet. 
When at the height of his fame, the Abbe d'Albret, 
the nephew of Marshal Turenne, the great French 
general, was created Cardinal de Bouillon at the 
age of twenty -six. The event provoked consider- 
able criticism, about the French court and in the 
church, so that the young Cardinal felt it important, 
if possible, to show the world that the victories of 
his great uncle and his public profession of the Cath- 
olic faith were not the nephew's only titles to his 
promotion. The pulpit offered him an obvious but 
perilous means of vindication. Diffident, however, 
of his ability to shine in the pulpit, he sought 
instruction from Bossuet as to "the studies indis- 
pensable" for making a great preacher. Bossuet, 
a devoted friend of the young Cardinal's family, 
wrote out the instruction desired. It covers but 
a few pages, "written without a pause of his pen," 
and "with no time to revise them"; but these pages 
are justly esteemed "precious" by M. Gandar. 
Their interest is chiefly autobiographic. The direc- 
tions they contain are recollections of the method 
Bossuet himself had used. The essential things, he 
says in substance, are "ample knowledge, such as 
comes from the thoroughgoing habit of exploring 
subjects to the bottom, that one may have plenty 
to say; and piety." "Fullness of mind gives fer- 
tility of mind, and fertility of mind insures a pleas- 
ing variety." 

First in importance for the replenishment of the 

170 



BOSSUET 

mind is the knowledge of the Scriptures. In study- 
ing these, he should not spend much time over ob- 
scure passages and difficult texts, nor in turning 
the pages of commentaries to find out their explana- 
tion. He must not expect to know everything in the 
Bible, for this is a book of which one could never 
know everything. He should ascertain what is clear 
and most certain, and fill his mind with the substance 
of the sacred books, with the primary purpose of 
nourishing his own piety. 

For the further replenishment of his mind the 
Cardinal should study the Church Fathers. Not 
content with giving a general direction, Bossuet 
speaks of the Fathers individually, and of the par- 
ticular benefits to be gained from each. St. Cyprian 
would teach him the art of handling the Scriptures 
so as to clothe himself with their divine authority. 
Tertullian, in whom he himself had found a con- 
genial spirit, "would give him many striking sen- 
tences/' Augustine would explain the doctrine of 
Christianity: " Sa theologie est admirable; il Sieve 
V esprit aux grandes et subtiles considerations" Chrys- 
ostom would afford him "excellent models of sim- 
ple eloquence adapted to the common people and 
well fitted to instruct and move them." Lest the 
amount of reading thus marked out for the indolent 
young Cardinal should appall him, Bossuet tells him 
it is not so long and difficult a task as might appear. 
"It is incredible," he said, "how much may be ac- 
complished, provided one is willing to give some time 
to the effort, and to follow it up a little." 

In this brief outline of study "pour former un 

171 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

orateur" Bossuet gave a transcript from his own 
experience during those years of his early manhood at 
Metz. He was a constant, diligent student of the 
Bible, so that Lamartine says, "in Bossuet the Bible 
was transfused into a man." Thence he derived 
that "accent of authority" which characterized his 
preaching. "We must not seek the explanation of 
this," says M. Gandar, "in the imperious bent of 
his mind." If he sometimes has an oracular tone, 
it is because he presents to his hearers, as he says and 
believes, "une doctrine toute Chretienne, toute prise 
des Livres Saints et des Ecritures apostolique" "sim- 
ple et naive exposition des maximes de V Evangile." It 
is not himself whom he calls upon them to believe. 
"Listen," he says, "it is the Saviour who speaks; 
it is a question of heeding His word." 

In regard to his diligent study of the Fathers of the 
Church, evidence of it is found in his sermons and 
funeral orations as well as in his explicit declaration, 
that at Metz he read the most of the Fathers. The 
fabric of his discourses is shot through, as with 
threads of silver and gold, with the thoughts and 
sayings of the Fathers. He relies upon their sup- 
port, he breathes their spirit, he uses their expres- 
sions: he imitates them, cites them, paraphrases 
them. 

The Bible and the Church Fathers thus formed, 
so to speak, his solid diet. He had also for a lighter 
diet the writings of Corneille, whom he admired 
"for his force and vehemence"; the Letters of Jean 
Balzac, who had "enriched" the French tongue with 
"beautiful sayings and noble phrases," and from 

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BOSSUET 

whom he "obtained some idea of a fine and delicately 
turned style"; and the works of Tacitus in the 
French version of d'Ablancourt, which he liked 
because he found there "examples of the sublime and 
the grand," which "ought to be," he thought, "the 
style of the pulpit." To this style, it may be said, 
his natural bent inclined him as well as his studies and 
the fashion of the time. Indeed, his early pulpit 
style exhibits the faults of occasional grandiloquence 
and pompous amplitude. He had not learned, as 
he came to learn later, the value of self-restraint, the 
force of condensed expression, the merit of not saying 
too much; in short, that, in writing and speaking, 
half oftentimes is more than the whole. 

But with these faults there were associated extra- 
ordinary gifts and abilities. He had a pleasing and 
sonorous voice that easily filled the largest cathedral. 
He had a heart responsive to the truth he uttered, 
and vitalizing it with genuine emotion. He thus had 
the ability of investing the trite themes of religion 
with fresh interest, "infusing," as Dean Church 
says, "a sense of serious reality into the common- 
places of the pulpit." Lastly, he had the power 
of unfettered freedom in the pulpit. Though he 
wrote out his sermons at the first and continued to 
do this for nearly twenty years, until he reached the 
meridian of his fame as a preacher, he did not 
attempt to commit to memory what he had written, 
and require of himself verbal exactness in its deliv- 
ery. Such bondage would have hampered him, he 
said, and quenched the fire and force and freedom of 
his utterance. He wrote beforehand for the same 

173 



V 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

reasons that Alexander Hamilton and Daniel Web- 
ster wrote their famous pleas, to sift and clarify 
his thoughts, to determine their arrangement for 
the best effect, and to shape their expression with 
sufficient definiteness to save him from uncertainty 
and hesitation in speaking. Having done this, he 
trusted himself to his powers of utterance under the 
impulse of his heart, as inspired and quickened at the 
moment by the truth. He thus secured in preaching 
choiceness and strength of thought, felicity of lan- 
guage, and the power of easy, sustained flight which 
caused him later to be called "the Eagle." 

With such qualifications, natural and acquired, 
Bossuet soon gained at Metz a great reputation. 
The people of the city thronged to hear him; strang- 
ers passing through were told about him, and 
attended upon his preaching as the chief attraction 
of the town. 

One of the remarkable things about the sermons of 
those early years is that they contained striking 
thoughts and passages like those found in the best 
sermons of his later days. The same fact has been 
noted in the lives of other great preachers. Dr. 
Brown, in his recently published Yale Lectures upon 
"Puritan Preaching in England," says of Dr. 
Alexander Maclaren, of Manchester, that "the sur- 
vivors of his Southampton congregation [to which 
he ministered in his young manhood], while will- 
ing to admit that he is more forceful and more 
cultured in the 'nineties than in the 'fifties, still 
contend that he has never reached higher levels 
than he frequently did in the days when he was 

174 



BOSSUET 

their minister." A similar declaration is made by 
M. Gandar concerning Bossuet's early preaching 
at Metz. "Bossuet," he says, "will be, some day, 
more self-contained, more even and chastened in 
his style, but he will never speak in a more elevated 
and impressive fashion. There is in the best parts 
of the Panegyric of St. Bernard [one of his dis- 
courses at Metz], the same indescribable charm 
which we shall find later in the sermons preached at 
the Louvre and in the 'Funeral Orations.'" 

Such examples suggest that a young preacher of 
promise is somewhat like a young song-bird — a 
wood thrush, for instance — which, though its song 
has not the full strength, sustaining power, and 
superb quality of the song of the mature bird, sings 
nevertheless the same song essentially, though in a 
feebler key, and affords a similar delight to those that 
hear it. 

Perhaps all preachers of promise manifest these 
tokens of excellence in the early years of their minis- 
try. In the first five or six years of their preaching, 
generally, you will find clear intimations of their 
best thought and pulpit power. But many lack 
what Dr. Bushnell calls "the talent of growth"; 
or, having it, they do not stimulate it. They do not 
grow in pulpit power; they do not possess an insati- 
able desire to do so, or put forth unwearied efforts 
to realize this desire; they quickly reach their limit 
of improvement, and after a short period of moderate 
success exhibit a gradual declension of preaching 
power. 

Bossuet had "the talent of growth" to a remark- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

able degree. He was also both ambitious of excel- 
lence and willing to pay the full price for it. His 
was a good example of what an eminent public 
man of today calls "the strenuous life." He left 
little to chance; he was resolute of purpose to im- 
prove himself to the utmost; he sets before us the 
example of "a man who could easily win admira- 
tion by the mere exercise of his natural gifts, but 
who for forty years never ceased toiling to satisfy 
his high ideal of excellence and make himself more 
perfect." 

Two means of self -improvement employed by him 
at this stage, and which had a marked influence upon 
him, here demand our attention. They were: (1) 
the study of the best living models of pulpit elo- 
quence, and (2) the writings of Pascal. 

After four or five years of uninterrupted labor 
in Metz, he made a visit to Paris, and remained 
there about a year and a half, excepting the time 
required for a short visit to Dijon, his native city, 
and two or three flying visits to Metz, demanded by 
the duties of his position there. His purpose in 
going to Paris was to hear and to be heard: to hear 
the renowned preachers of the metropolis, that "his 
eyes might be opened to his own defects"; that he 
might learn to speak both "to the level of his audi- 
ence, and to the height of his subject," and that he 
might clear his pulpit style of dryness, tautology, 
and all antiquated phrases and provincialisms: and 
to be heard by "audiences accustomed to hear the 
best preachers," that he might encounter the 
criticism of their standard of judgment. 

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BOSSUET 

Among the distinguished preachers whom he 
heard, four are specially mentioned by M. Gandar: 
Senault, Superior of the Oratory in the Faubourg St. 
Jacques; Leboux, who had the honor of being selected 
by the Queen Mother to preach two successive ser- 
ies of sermons at the palace of the Louvre before the 
young king and the court; Godeau, whose preaching 
is described as marked by "seriousness/' "unction," 
and "an indescribable charm," which reminded his 
hearers of the graces of St. Francis de Sales, or gave 
them a foretaste of the "sweetness of Fenelon"; 
and Claude de Lingendes, the Jesuit, "an almost 
perfect orator, condensed, earnest, sometimes pa- 
thetic and even terrible, whose hearers were seen to 
rise from their seats with a pale face and downcast 
eyes, and depart from the church without speaking 
a word, greatly moved and thoughtful." 

The hearing of these preachers produced a salutary 
change in Bossuet's preaching. His style became 
more studied and even, his periods more symmet- 
rical and marked by sustained dignity of language. 
His models were not less anxious to speak properly 
than to think truly, and they did not separate from 
a scrupulous attachment to the truth the fear of 
wounding the tongue, the ear — the proprieties. In 
imitating these models, however, he encountered 
the same danger that his studies of Corneille and 
Balzac and Tacitus had before exposed him to — the 
danger of being stilted, of losing his simplicity and 
naturalness, of becoming unreal, of filling with clouds 
and emptiness those heights where he affected to 
move. 

12 177 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

From this danger he was saved by the influence of 
Pascal, whose "Provincial Letters" opportunely 
appeared, and became the talk of the town at the 
very time of Bossuet's visit to Paris. This famous 
work, which marks an epoch in French literature, 
gave a new and better model of prose to the French 
language, as well as a new and purer standard of 
morals to the Catholic Church. Pascal corrected 
the false taste of the time by commending to general 
acceptance the following sound principles of rhetoric : 
that the repetition of a word or phrase, if necessary 
to the clear meaning or force of a sentence, is not to 
be condemned; that useless antitheses for the sake 
of symmetry are, like "false windows," absurd; that 
euphuisms, "to mask nature," or "to make great 
what is little or little what is great," are to be avoided; 
that a conventional eloquence is not true eloquence; 
that a continuous eloquence soon becomes wearisome; 
that he who expresses himself naturally is likely to 
be listened to with less effort and more pleasure; 
that one should do honor to the word: but only that the 
word may do honor to the thought." 

Bossuet, then thirty years of age, readily came 
under the influence of this "peerless writer," as 
Mme. Sevigne calls him. This influence is shown, 
not in any sudden and entire alteration of his natural 
tendency to majesty (majeste romaine, as M. Gan- 
dar calls it), but in the fact that he afterwards 
exhibited a more chastened taste, and had "the 
grand art of not saying too much" combined with the 
power of coining felicitous words and phrases that 
stuck in the memory. The influence of Pascal is 

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BOSSUET 

visible in the manuscripts of Bossuet, as seen in the 
way he worked over and reshaped the thoughts and 
passages found in the sermons of his early years which 
he thought worthy of being used again in his later 
sermons. While he preserves the ideas and much of 
the old language, he prunes it without mercy, "bring- 
ing," Dean Church says,* "what was a diffuse and 
florid piece of amplification into the compass of a 
few, nervous, compact sentences, where every word 
tells." 

Were these ceaseless efforts to perfect his pulpit- 
style commendable? We think so. A good style 
is like the feather that wings the archer's shaft. 
The better the style that conveys the truth, the more 
surely it is carried home to the mark. The aim of 
the preacher is to arrest attention, to impress the 
mind, to lodge the truth in the memory and heart, 
so that it may, by its natural operation, purify the 
heart and change the life. A good pulpit style, 
including action as well as words, assists this aim. 
To the degree that it sends the truth home, so that 
it possesses the mind with haunting and inspiring 
power through the action and words that drive it in, 
will be the preacher's power. The whole past his- 
tory of the pulpit proves this. The examples of the 
great preachers illustrate the fact. This consum- 
mate power imparted by a rare style to the preacher's 
eloquence, and derived by Bossuet from his study of 
Pascal, was revealed after his return from Paris. 

His return was hastened by the arrival in Metz, 
a fortnight before, of the Queen Mother, Anne of 

*See Occasional Papers, 2 vol.; vol. 1:14. London, MacMillan & Co., 1897. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Austria, with the young king and court. The Queen 
Mother, who is represented in the annals of the time 
as occupied with acts of charity and devotion, and as 
eager to hear all preachers of renown, desired to 
hear the young preacher whose eloquence was the 
pride of the city, and had recently won applause 
even in the capital where he had preached. At any 
rate, a few days after his return, he preached (at her 
request), before herself and the royal court, a 
panegyric of St. Theresa. It marks an epoch in his 
pulpit career because of its surpassing merits, and 
indicates the "beginning of his maturity." "There 
were sagacious people in the brilliant assembly that 
heard it, who confidently predicted that such elo- 
quence would some day produce a great noise in the 
church." 

The fame, thus foretold, came two years later, 
when Bossuet was called to Paris to preach the Lenten 
sermons at the Louvre. For the following ten 
years, from 1660 to 1670, he was in constant request 
in Paris for Lenten sermons, Advent sermons and 
French orations. The audiences that gathered to 
hear him were composed of all classes and conditions 
of men. "Court and city flocked to listen; the 
queens went from the palace, and the nuns of Port 
Royal from their seclusion; Conde, Turenne, 
Madame de Sevigne, and other famous contempo- 
raries." Scholars, nobles, sages — the elite of society 
— mingled with the crowd. Never was the fascina- 
tion which eloquence has for all classes of mankind 
more signally displayed; never was the indescribable 
witchery of eloquent speech more truly exercised by 

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BOSSUET 

human lips. For the hour, while sitting before him, 
those hearers sat entranced; they were almost 
literally spellbound. 

Those were the years of his meridian splendor as a 
preacher; the years when his sermons were richest 
in thought, in wealth of knowledge and sentiment, 
in suggestive and picturesque language. At the 
close of the Careme (Lenten sermons) given at the 
Louvre in 1662, the King himself expressed his 
enthusiasm by sending a personal message to Bos- 
suet's father, to felicitate him for having such a son. 

But in the funeral orations over Henrietta Maria, 
Queen of England, her daughter, the Duchess of 
Orleans, and the great Conde, Bossuet displayed 
the most remarkable powers — powers of thought and 
spiritual discernment, and powers of a varied, exqui- 
site style : the power of swift, condensed narrative, 
which places before us the substance of a long chap- 
ter or volume in a few sentences, as in the descrip- 
tion of Conde 's victorious leadership at the battle 
of Rocroi; and the power of epigrammatic as well as 
pathetic expression, which enabled him, by the use 
of a few simple words, to thrill and lift his hearers 
to sublimest heights of feeling, or to move them to 
irrepressible tears, as they hung upon his lips. 

Take, for example, his account of the birth, child- 
hood, and development to a beautiful womanhood, 
and of the sudden death of Henrietta, the Duchess 
of Orleans, daughter of Charles I., King of England. 

"This princess, born near a throne, had a mind and heart 
superior to her birth. The misfortunes of her family could not 
crush her in her early youth, and from that time on she exhibited 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

a grandeur which owed nothing to fortune. We say with joy 
that heaven plucked her from the hands of the enemies of her 
royal father, to give her to France. Precious, inestimable gift — 
if only it had been made more lasting! . . . Alas! we can- 
not dwell a moment upon the glory of this princess without hav- 
ing death come straightway to darken everything with his 
shadow ! O death, withdraw from our thought, and suffer us to be 
beguiled, for a little while, of our grief by the remembrance of 
our joy! Recall now, sirs, the admiration this English princess 
inspired in all the court. Your memory will portray her better, 
with all her traits and incomparable loveliness, than my words 
could ever do. She grew up amid the benedictions of all classes, 
and the years ceased not to bring to her new graces. . . . 

"Nevertheless, neither the esteem she inspired nor all her 
great advantages affected her modesty. . . . Men spoke 
with rapture of the goodness of this princess who, in spite of 
the cliques and parties common to courts, won all hearts. 
She exhibited incredible tact in treating the most delicate 
matters, in removing hidden suspicions, in terminating all 
difficulties in such a manner as to conciliate the most opposite 
interests." 

"Irremediable sorrow! that the subject of such just admira- 
tion should become the subject of boundless regret! . . . O 
woeful night, in which, on a sudden, resounded, like a clap of 
thunder, that astonishing news, 'Madame is dying! Madame is 
dead !' . . . And there, in spite of that great heart, is this 
princess, so admired and so beloved, — there as death has made 
her for us!" 

It is only a faint conception of the beauty and 
pathos of the original that our poor translation can 
give. Of the original only is the remark of Guizot 
true, "Bossuet alone could speak like that." If we 
have conveyed, however, a hint of the style of this 
matchless orator, or, by what we have said of it, may 
lead some of our readers to seek out the original, 
and peruse it for themselves, it will be enough. 

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BOSSUET 

This masterpiece of commemorative eloquence, 
given in August, 1670, marks the culminating point 
in Bossuet's career as a preacher. For more than 
thirty years subsequently he continued to exercise 
his great gifts and attainments in the pulpit. He 
was the leader of the Church of France in his time — 
more potent in its affairs than the Pope himself. 
To the end of his life he continued to be a student 
and a learner, taking up the study of Hebrew in his 
later years, and achieving a laudable scholarship 
in it, that he might be a better interpreter of the 
Bible. His vigor and vitality seemed to be unfailing; 
so that when, at length, he died, men were aston- 
ished, it is said, at "this mortal's mortality." 

Our purpose has been, not to give a panegyrique 
upon Bossuet, but an etude — a study of him as a 
pulpit orator, and of the methods by which he made 
himself such. His character was by no means 
faultless, nor his life blameless. His treatment of 
Mme. Guy on was harsh; of Fenelon, ungenerous. 
In his discussions with Protestants he was not quite 
fair, and so his polemic triumphs were delusive. The 
truth cannot be determined by fallacious arguments 
nor settled by the plaudits of admirers. Nothing 
is settled until it is settled aright. The questions in 
controversy will recur until the demands of truth 
and justice are met. Bossuet also rests under the 
stigma of having approved the Revocation of the 
Edict of Nantes, and for that cruel act, by which 
Louis XIV. dispeopled his kingdom of his choicest 
subjects, and drove fifteen hundred thousands of 
them into exile, despair, or falsehood, Bossuet lauded 

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him for "piety," and placed Louis "among the peers 
of Constantine and Theodosius." These are great 
blemishes upon Bossuet's good name; but they are 
faults to which good men are liable in an intolerant 
age. Luther, whom Bossuet resembled in several 
respects, was dishonored by them. Guizot, a 
staunch Protestant, characterizes Bossuet, however, 
as, for his time, "moderate and prudent in conduct 
as well as opinions," though his moderation "did 
not keep out injustice." On the whole our study 
of Bossuet has led us to accept as just the estimate 
of M. Gandar. He says: "In trying to account 
for the admiration of his genius, I have learned to 
honor Bossuet's character. While not daring to 
say that Fenelon thought of him, when he defined 
an orator as one 'qui ne^se sert de la parole que pour 
la pensee et de la pensee que pour la veriti et la vertu, 9 
assuredly Bossuet fulfilled this idea in his best 
preaching, as in his Car erne du Louvre." 

In conclusion: An interesting question of supreme 
importance is here pressed upon our attention as 
worthy of consideration. How did it happen that the 
"Golden Age of the French Pulpit," in which Bos- 
suet, Fenelon, Bourdaloue, and Massillon preached 
with such remarkable eloquence, remained, in spite 
of their preaching, notoriously wicked, dissolute 
and godless? Why were there no spiritual or moral 
results worthy of such pulpit fame? Those great 
preachers ought to have wrought, one naturally 
thinks, a great reformation in morals, and a great 
improvement in the religious tone and character 
of French society. But this natural expectation 

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BOSSUET 

was not realized. Compared with the preaching 
of Baxter and other Puritan divines, or with the 
preaching of Whitefield and the Wesley s, the preach- 
ing of Bossuet and his illustrious contemporaries 
of the French pulpit was barren and fruitless. Its 
unfruitfulness does not seem to us entirely due, or 
mainly due, to the difference in doctrine, or because 
the doctrine of the French preachers was Catholic 
and that of the English preachers, Protestant, 
though this probably would be taken into account 
by some. We believe that in spite of the errors, 
from a Protestant standpoint, of the French Roman 
Catholicism of that day, it contained Christian truth 
enough if heeded, to convert men from their sin 
and develop in them genuine piety and beautiful 
Christian characters. The holy lives and the 
Christian characters of Fenelon, De Saci, Arnauld, 
"Mother" Angelica, and other famous Post Royal- 
ists prove this, 

The reason why the preaching of those great 
pulpit orators was so barren of good fruit was due, 
we think, to the artificial and frivolous character 
of their age joined to the corrupting influence of 
the French king and his court. Affectation and 
vain display, insincerity and religious hypocrisy were 
found everywhere, in the court, in the army, in the 
salons, and even in the assemblies of public worship. 
Life was like a theatrical performance. It lacked 
the ring of sincerity and reality; it was not taken 
seriously. Genuineness of action or speech was rare. 
This characteristic of the times made the French 
people, in Paris especially, and in the social atmos- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

phere of the court at Versailles and elsewhere, not 
ashamed to amuse themselves with sacred things, 
ready to entertain themselves with the preaching 
of a precocious youth in the salons of the fashionable 
quarter, and with the eloquent sermons of the great 
preachers in the chapels of the palaces, and in the 
churches and cathedrals of the city. The preachers 
could not but feel the demoralizing influence of 
this wide-spread atmosphere of insincerity. Aware 
of the seductive influence of flattery, and of the ad- 
miration and applause of the great, they really 
tried to resist it, but in spite of all they could do, 
it dulled the edge and diminished the power of their 
preaching. Their earnest and sincere endeavors 
were thus frustrated. 

The preaching of the pulpit surely reflects the 
character and sentiments of the auditory. If the 
hearers habitually regard it as a fictitious per- 
formance, they make it so and it degenerates into 
rhetorical cant. There is a great difference between 
speaking to an audience, like a prophet with a divine 
message, and speaking before an audience like an 
actor for their entertainment. In the one case, the 
speaking is a genuine message that commands atten- 
tion, convicts and persuades, and results in appro- 
priate action; in the other, a make-believe utterance 
that produces no deep or permanent moral effect. 

The king, Louis XIV, was chiefly to blame for all 
this. Vain, imperious, worldly-minded, selfish mon- 
arch that he was, fond of adulation and bent upon the 
gratification of his lust of power and of sensual 
pleasure, there was no sincere desire in his heart to 

i8a 



BOSSUET 

hear God's truth or to obey it. His seeming piety 
was a sham, his apparent interest in the preaching 
of the gospel by the great preachers of his age only 
the interest of a playgoer in consummate acting. 
As with the king, so with his courtiers and the fash- 
ionable people who thronged the royal chapels and 
the churches. They too regarded the sermons of 
the preachers as something like a theatrical per- 
formance, only a pleasant entertainment. Their 
eloquent appeals and exhortations might generally 
be admired for their rhetorical splendor, but few 
took them seriously to heart. The preachers knew 
that this would be the case, and they were disheart- 
ened in their endeavors to have it otherwise. They 
could not, they finally did not, expect the spiritual 
results that would have been looked for under differ- 
ent psychological conditions. Their preaching lacked 
the notes of earnestness and sincerity that marked 
the preaching of Bernard of Clairvaux, Luther, and 
Baxter. It was artificial to a degree that is trace- 
able in their published sermons, but of which quality 
there is no trace in these preachers. "I would as 
soon doubt the gospel's verity," says Coleridge, "as 
the sincerity of Baxter." Sincerity, the downright 
sincerity of an earnest soul that speaks from a heart 
throbbing with emotion its message of salvation, 
which has been tested in its own experience and been 
found blessedly true, this must characterize the 
preacher whose ministry of the Gospel is attended 
with great reformations of religion and morals. 
It marked the ministries of those great preachers 
whose characters and careers we have previously 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

sketched; it might have marked that of Bossuet 
could he have resolutely risen by the assured help 
and grace of God above the general insincerity of 
his nation at that time. Failing to do this, succumb- 
ing weakly to its demoralizing influence, he failed 
of the highest result, though inferior to none of 
those preachers in natural gifts and rare accomplish- 
ments, and the purity of his original aims. 



188 



VI 
JOHN BUNYAN 



VI 
JOHN BUNYAN 

1628-1688 

Among the old English divines of the Anglican 
Church, there were men of great genius, eloquence, 
and learning. Such were Richard Hooker, Joseph 
Hall, Thomas Fuller, and Jeremy Taylor; but Dr. 
Thomas Arnold says: "I hold John Bunyan to have 
been a man of incomparably greater genius than any 
of them, and to have given a far truer and more 
edifying picture of Christianity." 

This man of extraordinary genius, however, was 
born in the humblest class of society and had but 
few educational advantages. "I never went to 
school," he says, "to Aristotle and Plato, but was 
brought up in my father's house in a very mean 
condition among a company of poor countrymen." 
Born November 30, 1628, at Elstow, Bedfordshire, 
into the family of a tinker, "of that rank that is 
meanest and most despised of all the families in the 
land," as he says, and brought up by his father to the 
same calling, the whole extent of his acquisitions 
from the poor instruction and brief school days given 
him, was "to read and write according to the rate 
of other poor men's children." But God plants a 
great mind where he will, and gives the highest 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

powers of intellectual and moral achievement to 
people dwelling in the most unequal and diverse 
conditions. Rome had two illustrious moralists, of 
about equal eminence, who stood high above all 
others; one was the slave Epictetus, and the other 
the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. God made the 
slave the teacher and peer of the emperor in genius 
and virtue, to show men that in the bestowal of his 
highest and best gifts he is no respecter of persons. 
Bunyan's genius was developed and trained in the 
school of Providence. It came slowly to maturity, 
and to the glorious fruitage it finally yielded only 
by the hard and various discipline of sin and remorse, 
of a wonderful experience of God's grace, and the 
vicissitudes of family affliction, a soldier's life, 
poverty, religious persecution and long imprison- 
ment for conscience sake, where celestial visions 
brightened his dreary captivity as with the glory of 
heaven, and qualified him to write his immortal 
allegory, "The Pilgrim's Progress," which Thomas 
Arnold extols for its "edifying picture of Christian- 
ity," "with none of the rubbish of the theologians 
mixed up with it." 

Among his lesser writings is an autobiography, 
which he entitled "Grace Abounding," that is similar 
in character and the nature of its interest to Augus- 
tine's "Confessions." This small book, which one 
could read in three or four hours, might be called, 
"The history of a benighted soul in its struggles to 
find the light." The struggles it describes are mainly 
those of the spirit with sin and doubts and fears. 
All else that happened in the course of his life he 

192 



JOHN BUNYAN 

seems to have reckoned of little account. It was 
the age of Cromwell and the great civil war. He 
scarcely refers, however, to the stirring events of 
his age, of which he was a spectator, or in which he 
was an actor, or a listener to the talk about him. 
He gives no dates, he mentions only a few localities, 
he alludes to but few of the exciting things then 
occurring in the world. He confines his narrative 
almost entirely to things that had some close relation 
to his spiritual development. "Time and place, 
outward circumstances and passing incidents, were 
nothing to him, about whom fell alternately the 
shadows of hell and the splendors of heaven.' ' The 
estimate of Bunyan, in this personal review of his 
life, as to what was most important and valuable in 
his experience, has come to be accepted by the 
world as its own. The supreme interest of his life 
is found in the vehement spiritual struggles he has 
here graphically depicted, and it is particularly 
instructive as revealing the manner in which the 
Christian faith lifted him, and may lift any miserable 
sinful man, out of a wretched condition, and exalt 
him to a place of honor and happiness. 

Taking up some of the most notable things in this 
sketch of his past life, it is pleasing to observe that 
while confessing his humble birth, he speaks respect- 
fully of his parents and of their willingness to do for 
his welfare all they could. He is not ashamed of 
them, or of the social condition he inherited from 
them. "Though I have naught to boast," he says, 
"of noble blood, or of a high-born state, according 
to the flesh, all things considered, I magnify the 

13 193 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

heavenly Majesty that by this door he brought me 
into this world." 

According to his own account of himself as a boy, 
youth, and young man, he was a rough, reckless, and 
most unpromising young fellow: — 

"I had but few equals for cursing, swearing, lying, and blas- 
pheming the holy name of God." 

"So settled and rooted was I in these things, that they became 
as a second nature to me. . . ." 

". . . so that until I came to the state of marriage, I was 
the very ringleader of all the youth that kept me company, in all 
manner of vice and ungodliness." 

Naturally his influence upon his companions was 
very pernicious. "I was one of the great sin- 
breeders," he says, "the neighbors counted me so, 
my own practice proved me so." He tells how one 
day as he 

"was standing at a neighbor's shop-window, and there cursing 
and swearing and playing the madman, after my wonted manner, 
there sat within the woman of the house and heard me; who, 
though she was a very loose and ungodly wretch, yet protested 
that I cursed and swore at that most fearful rate that she was 
made to tremble to hear me; and told me further, that I was the 
ungodliest fellow for swearing that she ever heard in all her life, 
and that I by thus doing was able to spoil all the youth in the 
whole town, if they came but in my company." 

From these passages and others found in his 
writings in regard to the sins of his youth and early 
manhood, it might be supposed that he was guilty of 
nearly all the sins forbidden in the decalogue. But 
this would be a mistake. When those who wished to 
discredit him as a preacher and religious writer 
accused him of unchastity, he replied: — 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

"My foes have missed their mark in this; I am not the man. 
. . . If all the fornicators and adulterers in England were 
hanged by the neck till they were dead, John Bunyan, the object 
of their envy, would be still alive and well." 

Macaulay, Froude and some other writers have 
expressed the opinion that the sins for which Bunyan 
so severely condemned himself, were, excepting his 
shocking profanity, but trivial offenses, like playing 
ball or "cat" on Sunday, and ringing the church 
bell on festive occasions, which his morbid conscience 
magnified into great proofs of wickedness; but 
faults graver than these seem implied in the words: 
"Had not a miracle of precious grace prevented, I 
had not only perished by the stroke of Eternal 
Justice, but had also laid myself open even to the 
stroke of those laws which bring some to disgrace 
and open shame before the face of the world." If 
sorrow could have sobered and subdued him, its 
discipline was not lacking. In his sixteenth year, 
his mother died, and a favorite sister, a month 
later. Shortly after, he joined the Parliamentary 
Army, "a finishing school to the hardened sin- 
ner," he says. He was at the siege of Leicester 
and probably in the desperately fought battle of 
Naseby. 

"When I was a soldier [he says], I, with others, was drawn to 
go to such a place to besiege it; but when I was just ready to 
go, one of the company desired to go in my room; to which, 
when I consented, he took my place; and coming to the siege, 
as he stood sentinel, he was shot in the head with a musket ball, 
and died. 

"Here were judgments and mercy; but neither of them did 
awaken my soul to righteousness." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Going home from the war, he married. The 
young couple were so poor that they did "not have 
so much household stuff as a dish or spoon between 
us both." But his wife brought him, notwithstand- 
ing, a precious dowry — the memory of a godly father 
and pious home, and two religious books, "The Plain 
Man's Pathway to Heaven" and "The Practice of 
Piety," which had a wide circulation in those days. 
These books he read with his wife, and they made a 
deep impression on his mind. Their influence, 
joined to that of his wife, produced in him a notable 
outward reformation, and a show of piety and 
religious zeal that led him 

"to go to church twice a day, . . . and there very devoutly 
both say and sing, as others did. ... I adored . . . 
all things belonging to the church, the high place, priest, clerk, 
vestment, service and what else." 

". . . . Then I thought I pleased God as well as any 
man in England. My neighbors were amazed at this my 
great conversion, from prodigious profanity, to something like 
a moral life; and, truly, so they well might be, for this, my con- 
version, was as great as for Tom of Bedlam to become a sober 
man." 

Nevertheless he says, — 

". . . as yet I was nothing but a painted hypocrite. 
. . . I did all I did, either to be seen of, or to be well 
spoken of by men. . . ." 

". . . I was all this while ignorant of Jesus Christ; and 
going about to establish my own righteousness; and had perished 
therein, had not God in mercy showed me more of my state by 
nature. " 

Finding in the Scriptures that the Israelites were 
accounted God's chosen people, he thought: "If I 

196 



JOHN BUNYAN 

were one of this race, my soul must needs be happy"; 
and he tried to make out that he was of Hebrew 
descent, but his father, who had no desire to be 
thought a Jew, gave such an emphatic negative to 
his aspirations and inquiries in this direction that 
he was forced to give them up. 

"But God [he says], the great, the rich, the infinitely merciful 
God did not take advantage of my soul to cast me away, but 
followed me still, and won my heart by giving me some under- 
standing, not only of my miserable state, which I was very sensi- 
ble of, but also that there might be hopes of mercy; taking away 
my love to lust and placing in the room thereof a holy love of 
religion. Thus the Lord won my heart to some desire to hear 
the word, to grow a stranger to my old companions, and to ac- 
company the people of God, giving me many sweet encourage- 
ments from several promises in the Scriptures.'* 

Of Bunyan it may be truly said that he was, to a 
rare degree, a Providential man, "a chosen vessel," 
like the apostle Paul, shaped by God for a great 
work. It is not possible to understand his remark- 
able character and career, or his vast influence for 
good as a preacher and writer, except we have this 
conception of him. This alone can explain the 
various agencies used by Providence to bring him 
"out of darkness into his marvelous light," to train 
and fit him for his appointed mission of teacher of 
practical Christianity to the world, especially to 
common people. 

Three of these agencies may be particularized as 
most prominent and worthy of mention. They were 
a group of poor women of Bedford, the Bible, and 
the religious persecution of the Anglican Church in 
that day, by which he was shut up in prison. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Of his introduction to those poor women and the 
good he received from them, Bunyan himself thus 
tells us: — 

"Upon a day, the good providence of God called me to Bed- 
ford, to work on my calling; and in one of the streets of that 
town, I came where there were three or four poor women sitting 
at a door, in the sun, talking about the things of God; and being 
now willing to hear their discourse, I drew near to hear what 
they said, for I was now a brisk talker in the matters of religion; 
but I may say, I heard, but understood not; for they were far 
above, out of my reach. . . . 

"Methought they spake as if joy did make them speak; they 
spake with such pleasantness of Scripture language, and with 
such appearance of grace in all they said, that they were to me, 
as if they had found a new world; as if they were people that 
dwelt alone, and were not to be reckoned among their neighbors" 

"When I had heard and considered what they said I left them, 
and went about my employment again, but their talk and dis- 
course went with me, . . . for I was greatly affected with 
their words, both because by them I was convinced that I wanted 
the true tokens of a truly godly man, and also because by them 
I was convinced of the happy and blessed condition of him that 
was such a one. 

"Therefore I would often make it my business to be going 
again and again into the company of these poor people; for I 
could not stay away; and the more I went among them the more 
I did question my condition: and . . . presently I found 
two things within me, at which I did sometimes marvel. . . . 
The one was a very great softness and tenderness of heart, which 
caused me to fall under the conviction of what by Scripture they 
asserted; and the other was a great bending in my mind, to a 
continual meditating upon it, and on all other good things which 
at any time I heard or read of." 

"About this time the state and happiness of these poor people 
at Bedford was thus, in a kind of vision, presented to me. I 
saw as if they were on the sunny side of some high mountain, 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

there refreshing themselves with the pleasant beams of the sun, 
while I was shivering and shrinking in the cold, afflicted with 
frost, snow, and dark clouds; methought also, betwixt me and 
them I saw a wall that did compass about this mountain. Now 
through this wall my soul did greatly desire to pass; concluding 
that if I could I would even go into the very midst of them, and 
there also comfort myself with the heat of their sun. 

"About this wall I bethought myself to go again and again, 
still praying as I went, to see if I could find some way or passage 
by which I might enter therein; at the last, I saw, as it were, a 
narrow gap, like a little doorway in the wall, through which I 
attempted to pass. . . . With great striving, methought I 
at first did get in my head, and after that by a sidelong striving, 
my shoulders and my whole body: then I was exceeding glad, 
went and sat down in the midst of them, and so was comforted 
with the light and heat of their sun. 

"Now this mountain, and wall, etc., was thus made out to me: 
The mountain signified the church of the living God; the sun 
that shone thereon, the comfortable shining of his merciful face 
on them that were therein; the wall I thought was the world, 
that did make separation betwixt the Christians and the world, 
and the gap which was in the wall, I thought, was Jesus Christ, 
who is the way to God the Father. But forasmuch as the pass- 
sage was wonderful narrow, even so narrow that I could not but 
with great difficulty enter in thereat, it showed that none could 
enter into life but those that were in downright earnest, and 
unless also they left that wicked world behind them; for here 
was only room for body and soul, but not for body and soul and 
sin." 

This passage from the story of his religious experi- 
ence, in "Grace Abounding," is interesting for several 
things. It is interesting in itself for the truth it 
contains; for its illustration of the benefit that a 
seeker after God may receive from the conversation 
and society of pious people, no matter how poor and 
humble; and for the disclosure it makes of Bunyan's 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

native bias and imaginative faculty of translating 
his religious experiences, of various sorts, into clear 
and picturesque allegories, attractive and illuminat- 
ing to the mind and convincing to the heart. We 
shall have other interesting examples of this. They 
all go to show by what steps, by what spiritual con- 
flicts and agony of soul, and by what Providential 
teaching and discipline the immortal dreamer be- 
came qualified to write "The Pilgrim's Progress." 
In "Grace Abounding" we have the preliminary 
rehearsal that prepared the way for it. It was 
based in actual fact, and distressful as are the facts 
of real life. It was no such stuff as ordinary dreams 
are made of — the fictions of fancy. Its production 
was by conditions and processes analogous to those 
by which a diamond or some other precious gem is 
produced through the intense heat of internal fires, 
and the tremendous pressure of the weight of moun- 
tains. "Those poor people in Bedford, to whom 
I began to break my mind," he says, told Mr. Gif- 
ford, their pastor, a dissenting minister, about him, 
who "took all occasion to talk with me," and "whose 
doctrine, by God's grace, was much for my stability." 
Mr. Gifford himself, after leading a wild, wicked, and 
stormy life, as soldier, gambler, and criminal, had 
experienced a remarkable conversion, which, com- 
bined with unusual gifts of mind, gave him skill in 
the treatment of souls. 

"This man [says Bunyan] made it much his business to deliver 
the people of God from all those hard and unsound tests that 
by nature we are prone to. He would bid us take special heed 
that we took not up any truth upon trust; as from this, or that, 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

or any other man or men, but cry mightily to God that he would 
convince us of the reality thereof, and set us down by his own 
Spirit in the Holy Word; 'for (said he) if you do otherwise, 
when temptation comes (if strongly) upon you, you not having 
received them (the truths of religion) with evidence from heaven, 
will find you want that help and strength now to resist that once 
you thought you had.' 

"This [says Bunyan] was as seasonable to my soul as the for- 
mer and latter rains in their season; for I had found, and that 
by sad experience, the truth of his words. . . . Wherefore 
I found my soul, through grace, very apt to drink in this doc- 
trine, and to incline to pray to God, that in nothing that per- 
tained to God's glory and my own eternal happiness, he would 
suffer me to be without the confirmation thereof from heaven; 
for now I saw clearly, there was an exceeding difference betwixt 
the notion of the flesh and blood, and the revelation of God in 
heaven; also a great difference betwixt that faith that is feigned, 
and according to man's wisdom, and that which comes by a 
man's being born thereto of God. 

"But, oh! now, how was my soul led from truth to truth by 
God!" 

This leading of his soul "from truth to truth by 
God," over which he thus exclaims, and which is 
graphically described by him in "Grace Abounding," 
has great interest and value for the illustration it 
gives concerning the help afforded by the Sacred 
Scriptures, when accepted and firmly believed in as 
the revelation of God and an infallible authority as 
to religious truth, in the guidance and confirmation 
of the soul seeking to know this truth. Led by the 
influence of "those poor Bedford women" to new 
diligence in its study, "I began to look into the Bible 
with new eyes," he says, "and read as I never did 
before; especially the Epistles of the Apostle Paul 
were sweet and pleasant to me; and, indeed, then 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

I was never out of the Bible, either by reading or 
meditation; still crying out to God that I might 
know the truth and the way to heaven and glory." 
It is interesting to observe, from his case, how the 
Bible so studied may light up the way, step by step, 
of an earnest inquirer until he arrives at a state of 
peace and settled joy from the happy assurance of 
God's forgiveness and unchangeable love. 

We give the following two examples, selected from 
many : — 

"One day as I was walking in the country, I was much in the 
thoughts of this question, 'But how if the day of grace is past?' 
And to aggravate my trouble, the tempter presented to my mind 
those good people of Bedford and suggested to me: that these 
being converted already they were all that God would save in 
these parts, and that I came too late. Now I was in great dis- 
tress thinking this might well be so; wherefore I went up and 
down bemoaning my sad condition . . . crying out, 'Oh 
that I had turned sooner!' When I had been long vexed with 
this, these words broke in upon my mind, 'Compel them to come 
in, that my house may be filled; and yet there is room.' 

"Those words, especially these, 'And yet there is room,' were 
sweet words to me, for I thought by them I saw there was place 
enough in heaven for me, and, moreover, that when the Lord 
Jesus did speak these words, he then did think of me; and that 
he knowing that the time would come that I should be afflicted 
with fear that there was no place left for me in his bosom, did 
before speak this word and leave it upon record that I might 
find help thereby against this temptation." 

Another question that greatly troubled him was, 
"How can you tell that you are elected?" 

"It may be that you are not, said the tempter; it may be so 
indeed, thought I. Why then, said Satan, you had as good 
leave off, and strive no farther. . . . By these things I was 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

driven to my wits end, not knowing what to say, or how to an- 
swer these temptations." 

He obtained relief from his distress, chiefly, from 
John vi. 37: "And him that cometh to me I will in 
no wise cast out." 

"This scripture [he says] did most sweetly visit my soul. Oh! 
the comfort that I had from this word, 'in no wise!' As who 
should say, 'By no means, for nothing whatever he hath done.' 
But Satan would greatly labor to pull this promise from me, 
telling me, 'That Christ did not mean me and such as I, but sin- 
ners of a lower rank that had not done as I had done.' But I 
would answer him, ' Satan, there is in these words no such excep- 
tion; but him that comes, him, any him.' If ever Satan and I 
did strive for any word of God in all my life, it was for this good 
word of Christ; he at one end, and I at the other. Oh! what 
work we made! It was for this in John, I say, that we did so 
tug and strive; he pulled and I pulled; but God be praised! I 
overcame him! I got sweetness from it." 

Time and space forbid our citing other instances 
from this interesting chronicle of Bunyan's various 
experiences. It contains passages of sublime reli- 
gious sentiment and pathos, and sheds by its vivid 
pictures of alternating religious despondency and 
exaltation, of fear and hope, of remorse and ecstatic 
joy, considerable light upon a subject that is attract- 
ing much attention in our day — the subject of Psy- 
chotherapy. It has a psychological as well as 
religious interest, and, carefully studied, will afford 
the Christian minister and the physician alike val- 
uable suggestions as to right methods of dealing 
with troubled souls. ♦ 

Most of Bunyan's prolonged darkness of mind and 
spiritual distress arose, we think, from his morbid 

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self -consciousness, due in great part to the habit of 
introspection (practised by religious people to excess 
in those times), which led him to fix his thoughts on 
himself and the feelings of his heart for the evidence 
of acceptance with God, instead of fixing them on 
Christ and the true evidences of God's grace given in 
the Scriptures. He had a profound sense of sin and 
of the estrangement of the heart from God, and he 
intensified this feeling of sin, and added unnecessary 
weight to its natural burden of remorse, by reckon- 
ing as mortal sins the various idle thoughts and 
strange fancies that flitted through his mind. For 
instance, Satan suggested to him, he says, — 

" after the Lord had set me down so sweetly in the faith of his 
holy gospel, and had given me such strong consolation and blessed 
evidence from heaven touching my interest in his love through 
Christ, . . . 'to sell and part with this most blessed 
Christ' . . . 

"This temptation did put me in such scares, lest I should at 
some time consent thereto and be overcome therewith, that by 
the very force of my mind, in laboring to gainsay and resist this 
wickedness, my very body would be put into action or motion, 
by way of pushing or thrusting with my hands or elbows; still an- 
swering, as fast as the destroyer said, 'Sell him,' 'I will not, I will 
not, I will not; no, not for thousands, thousands, thousands of 
worlds'; thus reckoning lest I should, in the midst of these as- 
saults, set too low a value on him; even until I scarce well knew 
where I was, or how to be composed again. . . . 

"To be brief: one morning as I did lie in my bed, I was, as at 
other times, most fiercely assaulted with this temptation, to sell 
and part with Christ; the wicked suggestion still running in my 
mind, 'Sell him, sell him, sell him, sell him,' as fast as a man 
could speak; against which also in my mind, as at other times, I 
answered, 'No, no, not for thousands, thousands, thousands,' at 
least twenty times together; but at last, after much striving, 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

even until I was almost out of breath, I felt this thought pass 
through my heart, 'Let him go, if he will'; and I thought also 
that I felt my heart freely consent thereto. Oh! the diligence 
of Satan ! . . . 

". . . Down fell I, as a bird that is shot from the top of a 
tree, into great guilt and fearful despair!" 

The "guilt" was a delusion, but his "despair" 
was real. This passage and others like it suggest 
that his mind at times was near to insanity. His 
persistent fear that he had committed the unpardon- 
able sin, and his imaginary struggles with Satan 
attempting to mislead his soul and oppose his 
spiritual good when he tried to pray were like the 
hallucinations of a crazy man. But he was pre- 
served from total madness by the soothing influence 
of God's Word. Its pervading tone of love and its 
divine wisdom proved an effective antidote. Though 
he reeled and tottered on the brink, he did not fall 
over. The outstretched hand of Christ that rescued 
Peter when sinking beneath the waves was stretched 
out to him also and upheld him. His dialogues 
with Satan amuse us, but him they terrified. 

"The tempter [he says] hath come upon me with such dis- 
couragements as these: 'You are very hot for mercy, but I will 
cool you; this frame shall not last always; many have been as 
hot as you for a spirit [of prayer], but I have quenched their zeal' 
. . . but thought I, I am glad this has come into my mind; 
well, I will watch, and take what care I can. 'Though you do 
[said Satan], I shall be too hard for you; I will cool you insensi- 
bly, by degrees, by little and little. What care I, though I be 
seven years in chilling your heart, if I can do it at last? Con- 
tinual rocking will lull a crying child asleep; I will ply it close, 
but I will have my end accomplished. Though you be burning 

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hot at present, I can pull you from this fire; I shall have you 
cold before it be long.'" 

These fancied dialogues and struggles with Satan 
were similar to those of Martin Luther in like cir- 
cumstances. They were consonant also with the 
theological ideas of those times and the doctrine of 
the Reformers in the century preceding. "His 
[Bunyan's] doctrine," says Froude, "was the doctrine 
of the best and strongest minds in Europe. It had 
been believed by Luther, it had been believed by 
Knox. It was believed at that moment by Oliver 
Cromwell as by Bunyan." Bunyan may be said 
to have sat at the feet of Luther, as he himself in 
effect confessed. Like John Wesley, a century after 
him, he fell in with Luther's "Commentary on 
Galatians," and received from it similar spiritual 
enlightenment and relief. 

" When I had but a little way perused it [he says] I found my 
condition in his experience so largely and profoundly handled, as 
if his book had been written out of my heart. He doth most 
gravely also in that book debate of the rise of these temptations, 
namely, blasphemy, desperation, and the like, showing that the 
law of Moses, as well as the devil, . . . hath a very great 
hand therein; the which, at first, was very strange to me, but 
considering and watching I found it so indeed. But of particu- 
lars here I intend nothing, only this methinks I must let fall be- 
fore all men; I do prefer this book of Martin Luther upon Gala- 
tians (excepting the holy Bible) before all the books that ever I 
have seen as most fit for a wounded conscience." 

But thanks to the advice of his pastor, Mr. Gifford 
(already quoted), his chief reliance was upon the 
teaching of the Bible. 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

"It would be too long here to stay [he says] to tell in particular 
how God did set me down in all the things of Christ, and how he 
did, that he might do so, lead me into his words; yea, and also 
how he did open them unto me, and make them shine before me, 
and cause them to dwell with me, talk with me, and comfort me, over 
and over, both of his own being and the being of his Son, and 
Spirit, and Word, and Gospel." 

The method, so to speak, of his use of Scripture 
is thus set forth by him: — 

"I would in these days, often in my greatest agonies, even 
flounce toward the promise, as the horses do towards sound ground 
that yet stick in the mire, concluding, though as one almost bereft 
of his wits through fear, 'On this will I rest and stay, and leave 
the fulfilling of it to the God of heaven that made it.' . . . 

"Often when I have been making to the promise, I have seen 
as if the Lord would refuse my soul for ever: I was often as if I 
had run upon the pikes, and as if the Lord had thrust at me, to 
keep me from him as with a flaming sword. Then would I think 
of Esther, who went to petition the king contrary to the law. 
. . . The woman of Canaan also, that would not be daunted 
though called dog by Christ, and the man that went to borrow 
bread at midnight, were also great encouragements to me. 

"I never saw those heights and depths in grace, and love, and 
mercy, as I saw after this. Great sins do draw out great grace, 
and where guilt is most terrible and fierce, there the mercy of 
God in Christ, when showed to the soul, appears most high, and 
mighty." 

What the old theologians called the "law work" 
in religious experience, and which they deemed a 
necessary and essential precedent to the "work of 
grace" in the heart (without which indeed there 
could be no relief for it from its burden of sin), had 
the most thorough and complete operation upon 
Bunyan's soul. Bunyan believed that by reason of 

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this experience he was given not only a wholesome 
fear of sin that kept him from backsliding, but a 
power and skill in dealing with troubled souls which 
greatly enhanced his usefulness as a preacher and 
pastor. "It was for this reason," he says, "I lay 
so long at Sinai, to see the fire, and the cloud, and 
the darkness, that I might fear the Lord all the days 
of my life upon earth, and tell of all his wondrous 
works to my children" (in the faith). 

He was ordained to the ministry when he was 
twenty seven years old. Gradually and with much 
diffidence he entered upon the work, encouraged 
thereto by 

"the most able for judgment and holiness of life [who] did per- 
ceive that God had counted me worthy to understand something 
of his will in his holy and blessed word, and had given me utter- 
ance in some measure to express what I saw to others for edifi- 
cation." "Wherefore, though of myself of all the Saints the 
most unworthy, yet I, but with great fear and trembling at the 
sight of my own weakness, did set upon the work"; — "which 
when the country understood, they came in to hear the word by 
hundreds, and that from all parts." 

His development as a preacher was rapid and most 
extraordinary. Of his great eloquence and ability 
in preaching we have the fullest proof. "No such 
preacher to the uneducated English masses," says 
Froude, the historian, "was to be found within the 
four seas." "With the thing which these people 
meant by inspiration he was abundantly supplied." 
His fame as a preacher was not confined to the 
limits of Bedfordshire, where most of his ministry 
was spent: it extended to London, and in London, 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

where he occasionally preached, the attraction of 
his eloquence drew great crowds to hear him. Mr. 
Doe, a warm contemporary admirer and citizen of 
the metropolis, says: "When Mr. Bunyan preached 
in London, if there were but one day's notice given 
there would be more people come together to hear 
him preach than the meetinghouse could hold. I 
have seen to hear him preach by my computation 
about 1200 at a morning sermon by 7 o'clock on a 
working day in the dark winter time. I also com- 
puted about 3000 that came to hear him one Lord's 
day in London at a town's end meetinghouse, so 
that half were fain to go away again for want of 
room, and then himself was fain at a back door to be 
pulled almost over people to get up stairs to his 
pulpit." 

And not only "to the uneducated English masses" 
was he an acceptable preacher, but to the noble, the 
learned, the rich, and those of high social station. 
The learned Dr. John Owen was one of his frequent 
hearers, embracing eagerly every opportunity to 
hear him and inviting him to preach to his own select 
congregation in Moorefields; saying to King Charles 
II., who asked him, "how he could go to hear that 
tinker preach?" that he "would willingly exchange 
his learning for the ability to preach as well as the 
tinker." 

It is interesting to know what were the particular 
personal qualities of Bunyan which gave him this 
eminence as a preacher, since, were it not for the 
fact that his fame as an allegorical writer eclipsed 
his fame as a preacher, he might fairly be regarded 

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as one of the most eminent lights of the pulpit in 
his time. This judgment is warranted not only by 
his contemporary reputation, but by his published 
sermons that have come down to us. 

Among the personal qualities that distinguished 
him as a preacher were the following: — 

1. He had a deep, unwavering conviction of the 
truth and importance of his message. The "accent of 
conviction" was never lacking in it. He had thor- 
oughly tested that truth by his own experience. 
"I preached what I saw and felt," he says. He 
could sincerely say, therefore, with the first preachers 
of the gospel, we "speak the things which we have 
seen and heard." He was an actual witness to their 
verity, not merely a repeater of things reported by 
others. He believed with all his heart that men 
needed an almighty saviour from sin and that in 
Christ Jesus only they could find him. As a result 
of this conviction he manifested an enthusiasm and 
earnestness in his preaching which seemed like a 
heavenly inspiration. 

"I have been in my preaching [he says], especially when I have 
been engaged in the doctrine of life by Christ without works, as 
if an angel of God had stood at my back to encourage me. Oh, 
it hath been with such power and heavenly evidence upon my 
soul, while I have been laboring to unfold it, to demonstrate it, 
and to fasten it upon the consciences of others, that I could not 
be contented with saying, I believe and am sure; methought I 
was more than sure, if it be lawful so to express myself, that 
those things which I then asserted were true." 

2. He was direct and unflinching in his preaching 
of what he believed to be the truth. "I did labor so to 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

speak the word," he says, "as that thereby, if it 
were possible, the sin and the person guilty might 
be particularized by it." Though by his plain 
preaching he condemned himself, he was not to be 
deterred by that fact. 

"When, as sometimes, I have been about to preach upon some 
smart and searching portion of the word, I have found the 
tempter suggest, "This condemns yourself; of this your own soul 
is guilty. Wherefore preach not of it at all; or if you do, yet so 
mince it as to make way for your own escape, lest instead of 
awakening others, you lay that guilt upon your own soul as you 
will never get from under.' 

"But I thank the Lord [he says] I have been kept from 
consenting to these horrid suggestions, and have rather, as 
Samson, bowed myself with all my might, to condemn sin and 
transgression wherever I found it, though therein I did bring 
guilt upon my own conscience. Let me die, thought I, with 
the Philistines, rather than deal corruptly with the blessed word 
of God." 

3. He combined with the earnestness and direct- 
ness of address that we have spoken of a marvelously 
clear, 'picturesque, and simple style. Bunyan's style 
is the wonder of all students of rhetoric, and writers 
upon the subject. Macaulay says of it: "The 
vocabulary is the vocabulary of the common people. 
Yet no writer (or speaker as well) has said more 
exactly what he meant to say. For magnificence, 
for pathos, for vehement exhortation, for every 
purpose of the poet, the orator and the divine, this 
homely dialect — the dialect of plain working men, is 
sufficient." A. C. Benson compares his style to 
that of Cardinal Newman and says: "It was not so 
much the expression of a thought as the thought 

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itself taking shape in a perfectly pure medium of 
language." 

Besides its simplicity and lucid plainness, the 
style of Bunyan had a persuasive warmth that 
touched men's hearts. "Let him write on what 
subject he may," says Dr. John Brown, his biog- 
rapher, "he writes not long before he melts with 
tenderness, or glows with fire." His published 
sermons, "The Jerusalem Sinner Saved," "The 
Barren Fig Tree," "Come and Welcome to Jesus," 
and "The Greatness of the Soul," though enlarged 
considerably beyond the limits within which they 
were confined when preached, preserve the talking, 
animated style with which they were orally delivered, 
and are indeed full of tenderness and fire. The act 
of committing them to writing did not essentially 
change their mode of expression, but embalmed it. 

Take the following example from a discussion on 
"Christ our Advocate": — 

"This consideration will help thee to put by that visor (i. e. 
mask) wherewith Christ by Satan is misrepresented to thee to 
the affrighting thee. There is nothing more common among 
Saints than thus to be wronged by Satan : for he will labor so to 
present Him to us with so dreadful and direful a countenance 
that a man in temptation and under guilt shall hardly be able to 
lift up his face to God. But to think really that He is my advo- 
cate, this heals all. Put a visor on the face of a father and it may 
perhaps for a while fright the child, but let the father speak, let 
him speak in his own fatherly dialect to the child, and the visor 
is gone, if not from the father's face, yet from the child's mind: 
yea, the child, notwithstanding that visor, will adventure to creep 
into the father's bosom. Thus it is with the Saints when Satan 
deludes and abuses them by disfiguring the countenance of Christ 
to their view; let them but hear their Lord speak in his own 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

natural dialect — and he doth so when we hear him speak as an 
advocate — and their minds are calmed — their thoughts settled, 
their guilt vanished, and their faith revived." 

4. The passage just quoted suggests that a rare 
gift of imagination was another qualification that 
gave Bunyan his eminence as a preacher. "Similes 
were ever coming to his mind like ripples over a 
stream," says Dr. Brown. These were of every 
kind and variety, so that all classes of hearers found 
pleasure in them. There were homely figures for 
the common people and exquisite ones for those of 
more refined taste. 

The following are examples of both kinds: — 

"Sins go not alone, but follow one another as do the links of a 
chain." 

"The sinner, when his conscience is fallen asleep and grown 
hard, will lie like the smith's dog at the foot of the anvil, though 
the fire sparks fly in his face." 

"Strike a steel against a flint and the fire flies about you; strike 
the law against a carnal heart, and sin appears, sin multiplies, 
sin rageth, sin is strengthened." 

"Truths are often delivered to us like wheat in full ears, to 
the end we should rub them out before we eat them, and take 
pains about them before we have the comfort of them." 

"Prayer is as the pitcher that fetcheth the water from the 
brook, therewith to water the herbs: break the pitcher and it 
will fetch no water, and for want of water the garden withers." 

"He that comes to Christ cannot always get on as fast as he 
would. Poor coming soul, thou art like the man that would 
ride full gallop, whose horse will hardly trot. Now the desire 
of his mind is not to be judged by the slow pace of the dull jade 
he rides on, but by the hitching, and kicking, and spurring as he 
sits on his back. The flesh is like this dull jade; it will not gallop 
after Christ, it will be backward, though thy soul and heaven be 
at stake." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

By the two following beautiful illustrations he 
shows the advantages and mutual benefits resulting 
from the united labors and fellowship of Christians 
in a well-ordered church: — 

"When Christians stand every one in their places and do the 
work of their relations, then they are like the flowers in the gar- 
den that stand and grow where the gardener hath planted them, 
and then they shall both honor the garden in which they are 
planted, and the gardener that hath so disposed them. From 
the hyssop on the wall to the cedar in Lebanon, their fruit is 
their glory." 

"Christians are like the several flowers in a garden, that have 
upon each of them the dew of heaven, which being shaken by 
the wind they let fall their dew at each other's roots, whereby 
they are jointly nourished and become nourishers of each other." 

The imperfection of our purest and holiest desires, 
arising from the imperfection of human nature, never 
was more aptly expressed than in the following: — 

"This is the cause of the coolness, of the weakness, of the flat- 
ness, and of the many extravagances that attend some of our 
desires; they come warm from the Spirit and grace of God in us, 
but as hot water running through cold pipes, or as clear water 
running through dirty conveyances, so our desires gather soil." 

5. Another quality in him which made Bunyan 
eminent as a preacher was the remarkable productive- 
ness of his mind in regard to religious subjects. His 
mind in itself was a mine of wealth while he worked 
on that particular vein. And its opulence was not 
due to any enrichment it had received from wide 
reading. Henry Ward Beecher, whose productive- 
ness excited the wonder and admiring comment of 
Abraham Lincoln ("the most productive mind of 
ancient or modern times/ ' he said), was a diligent 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

reader of all kinds of books, fertilizing his mind with 
their various elements of quickening power; but Bun- 
yan's reading was chiefly confined to one book — 
the Bible. His thoughts were his own, or such as 
were suggested to his mind by his own experience, 
the outward world of nature, which he attentively 
observed, and the Bible. "I have not fished," he 
says, "in other men's waters: my Bible and Con- 
cordance are my only library." But few men ever 
studied the Bible as he did. As in his early religious 
experience, soon after meeting "those poor Bedford 
people," he said: "I never was out of the Bible, 
either by reading or meditation," so always. He 
saturated his mind and heart with it. It was his 
constant support in weakness, his daily food, the 
never-failing tonic of his spiritual life. Through 
all his changing moods, it was fitted to his various 
needs. Placing such dependence upon it, he ex- 
tracted from it all its enriching, stimulating power. 
When dragged to prison for preaching the gospel, 
this affliction was mitigated by the fact that his 
insight into the Scriptures was enhanced thereby. 
"I never had in all my life," he says, "so great an 
inlet into the word of God as now. I could pray for 
greater trouble, for the greater comfort's sake." 

We can easily believe that the Bible thus con- 
stantly studied and fed upon and made an elixir of 
life to his soul stimulated to extraordinary produc- 
tiveness Bunyan's mind. It yields to such a student 
of its pages an equivalent to the best books in the 
world's literature. Bunyan found it so. It wonder- 
fully quickened, strengthened, and purified all his 

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mental faculties: it gave them for their use an 
inexhaustible treasure of thought and suggestion, 
and it gave him also his power of expression, the 
remarkable style of which we have spoken, in which 
the language of prophets, psalmists, evangelists, 
and apostles, as given in the Authorized Version of 
the Scriptures, is heard in its great range of thought 
and feeling. 

6. One other thing which contributed greatly to 
Bunyan's success and eminence as a preacher was 
his homiletic skill. His sermons are worthy of any 
preacher's study for their valuable hints in this 
respect. The art of preaching finds in him some of 
its most important principles admirably exemplified. 
While we do not by any means regard him as a model 
preacher in all respects, and readily admit that he 
had great faults, as those of prolixity, frequent 
digression, excessive division, rambling, and others, 
we still maintain that he had great excellencies, 
which went far towards redeeming those faults, and 
which make him, because of them, always worth a 
preacher's time to observe and in some measure to 
imitate. We mention these four: (1) a picturesque 
and lively manner of addressing his hearers or readers 
by reason of which he is never dull, however prolix 
or rambling; (2) such a full and complete explanation 
of the text and different points touched upon, that 
there is no possibility of anyone mistaking, or of 
not getting a clear understanding of his meaning; 
(3) a remarkable and very successful use of the dia- 
logue for the sake of answering objections or sup- 
porting and clinching a point by a short, telling argu- 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

ment; and (4) an earnestness to convince and win 
those addressed, which leaves no available means of 
persuasion untried, and which rises continually into 
expressions of tender appeal and passages of natural, 
unaffected eloquence. 

Of these four excellencies, the third (the use of the 
dialogue) is perhaps the most unique and notable. 
As used by Bunyan it is very effective. No modern 
preacher that we can recall surpasses him in this 
respect. The only one that we can think of who 
approaches, and perhaps equals, him in the skilful 
use of this rhetorical weapon is the late Professor 
Edwards A. Park of Andover.* It is a dangerous 
weapon to use. One may easily wound himself 
rather than overcome his imaginary antagonist with 
it. But having the ability and skill to use it, as it 
was used by Bunyan and Professor Park, one may 
achieve wonders with it. 

The story of Bunyan's imprisonment for the mere 
offense of preaching the gospel to a small company 
of religious people, dissenters from the established 
church, is too familiar to be dwelt on long by us. 
For the period of twelve years and upwards, his 
incarceration was prolonged, most of it, excepting 
occasional absences, spent in the larger jail of the 
county located in Bedford; to which was added, 
later, another short term in the small municipal 
jail placed midway on the bridge that spanned the 
river Ouse dividing the town. At the present time 
not a relic remains of either one of those prisons. 

* See, for example, the sermon "The Prominence of the Atonement," in his 
Discourses (Andover: Warren F. Draper). 

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In the smaller jail tradition reports that the first 
part of "The Pilgrim's Progress" was written. To 
those two jails in Bedford was given the great honor 
of being each the place where a great book originated. 
In the jail on the bridge, Bunyan conceived and 
composed the first part of his immortal allegory: 
in the county jail, in the next century, John Howard, 
then the sheriff of Bedfordshire, whose official duty 
it was to inspect the prison of his county, and whose 
heart was profoundly stirred by what he found there 
of abuses and a wretched condition from which 
Bunyan had suffered, was started on his philan- 
thropic career as a prison reformer, and incited to 
write his famous book on "The State of Prisons in 
England." 

Bunyan took to his prison for his solace two books 
—the Bible and Fox's "Book of Martyrs." He 
needed all the support they could give him. 

The following extracts from "Grace Abounding" 
describe his mental and spiritual distress over his 
situation : — 

"Notwithstanding these helps, I found myself a man encom- 
passed with infirmities. The parting with my wife and poor 
children hath often been to me, in this place, as the pulling of 
the flesh from the bones . . . because I would have often 
brought to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and want 
that my poor family was like to meet with, should I be taken 
from them; especially my poor blind child [his daughter Mary], 
who lay nearer my heart than all I had beside. Oh, the thoughts 
of the hardship my blind one might undergo would break my 
heart in pieces! ... In this condition I was as a man who 
was pulling down his house upon the heads of his wife and chil- 
dren; yet, thought I, I must do it, I must do it." 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

"Being but a young prisoner, and not acquainted with the 
laws, I had this laid much upon my spirit, that my imprison- 
ment might end at the gallows for aught that I could tell. . . . 
Therefore Satan laid hard at me to beat me out of heart by sug- 
gesting thus unto me: 'But how, if, when you come indeed to 
die, you should be in this condition; that is, not to savour the 
things of God, nor to have any evidence upon your soul for a 
better state hereafter?' ... I thought, if I should make a 
scrambling shift to clamber up the ladder, yet I should either 
with quaking or other symptoms of fainting give occasion to the 
enemy to reproach the way of God and his people for their timor- 
ousness. This lay with great trouble upon me, for methought 
I was ashamed to die with a pale face and tottering knees for 
such a cause as this. . . . Thus I was tossed for many weeks, 
and knew not what to do. At last this consideration fell with 
weight upon me, that it was for the Word and way of God that 
I was in this condition, wherefore I was engaged not to flinch a 
hair's breadth from it. Wherefore, thought I, I am for going on 
and venturing my eternal state with Christ, whether I have com- 
fort here or not. If God doth not come in, I will leap off the ladder 
even blindfold into eternity. Lord Jesus, if thou wilt catch me, 
do; if not, I will venture for thy name!" "Now was my heart 
full of comfort. I would not have been without this trial for 
much; . . . and I hope I shall bless God forever for the 
teaching I have had by it." 

Bunyan's long imprisonment, and that of the 
Quakers, George Fox and Whitehead, and others in 
that age of intolerance, with the physical sufferings 
and mental anguish that accompanied it, was a 
part of the great price paid for the liberty to worship 
God according to the dictates of the individual con- 
science, which is our precious inheritance. Incal- 
culable is the debt of gratitude we owe them on 
account of it. 

Froude defends the English government and the 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

magistrates of that time from the charge of cruelty, 
as if he had received a special retainer to do it. He 
declares, in substance, that Bunyan had only him- 
self to blame; that his preaching was in violation 
of law; that the magistrates repeatedly told him 
and his wife that if he would promise not to preach, 
he should go free; but that to all their expostulations 
and warnings he opposed a stubborn and lawless 
attitude. "If you let me out today," he said, "I 
will preach again tomorrow"; and his wife, "He 
dare not leave preaching as long as he can speak." 
At this, one of the judges exclaimed: "Why should 
we talk any more about such a fellow? Must he 
do what he lists?" To which the poor woman 
might truthfully have answered: "Yes, my lord, 
God bids him do so. Take heed, what ye intend to 
do as touching this man, lest haply ye be found even 
to fight against God." This is the conclusion to 
which the world has now come. 

The labored defense of Froude is no vindication 
of the magistrates or government. It was in clear 
violation of the promise of the king (Charles II.) 
at Breda, before his return to England, that if 
restored to the throne of his father, he would grant 
"liberty and consideration for tender consciences"; 
and that "no man should be molested for differences 
in opinion in matters of religion." 

While in prison Bunyan busied himself in various 
ways: in the making of tagged laces, by which he 
earned something for the maintenance of his family; 
in preaching and ministering to his fellow-prisoners; 
and in writing works for publication. 

220 



JOHN BUNYAN 

One who heard him preach in prison says: "In 
the midst of the confusion (of the prison) I have 
heard Mr. Bunyan both preach and pray with 
that mighty spirit of faith and plerophory [i. e. 
assurance] of Divine assistance that has made me 
stand and wonder." 

The most of the works written and published 
during his imprisonment were amplifications of 
sermons he had preached. Among these were 
the delightful treatises on "Christian Behavior" 
and the "Holy City," which bear clear marks 
of the genius that culminated in "The Pilgrim's 
Progress." 

The "Holy City," the New Jerusalem, as he 
interpreted it, is not the abode of the Church of God 
in the life to come; it rather symbolizes the Church 
itself, that great community of redeemed men which 
shall eventually bring heaven's glory and happiness 
to the earth. Enraptured by the vision, he thus 
expresses his longing for the time of its fulfillment: 
"Never was fair weather after foul, nor warm weather 
after cold, nor sweet and beautiful spring after a 
heavy and nipping and terrible winter, so comforta- 
ble, sweet, desirable, and welcome to the poor birds 
and beasts of the field as this day will be to the 
Church of God." The wonderful suggestiveness 
and fertility of his mind in ideas is well exhibited in 
the interpretation he gives to the several features 
of the Holy City. Its twelve gates, three to each 
point of the compass, indicate that "God hath a 
people in every quarter of the world, and that from 
what quarter of the world soever men come for life, 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

for those men there are the gates of life right 
before their doors." 

Its foundations with the names of the twelve 
apostles on them indicate "that neither Christ nor 
any of his benefits can be profitable unto thee unless 
thou receive him alone upon the terms that they do 
offer him to sinners in their word and doctrine." 

Its twelve gates of twelve pearls — "every several 
gate one pearl" — indicate "that as none can enter 
in but by Christ, so none can enter in but by a 
whole Christ: . . . thou must enter in by 
every whit of Christ, or by never a whit of him." 

Its one "street of pure gold, as it were transparent 
glass," indicates that "at last the saints shall walk 
in one way. It is Anti-Christ that hath brought 
in all these crossings, by-lanes, and odd nooks that 
to this day many an honest heart doth greatly lose 
itself in. Men must have pure hearts for that 
golden street, — golden hearts with graces that are 
much more precious than gold." 

That "the city was pure gold" indicates "how 
invincible a spirit the people of God are possessed 
of. Gold is a metal so invincible that no fire can 
consume it." Fire may melt it, and consume its 
dross, but instead of destroying it the fire refines it. 
"The church in the fire of persecution is like Esther 
in the perfuming chamber, but making fit for the 
presence of the king." 

Holding a conspicuous place among these prison 
writings was "Grace Abounding," written for the 
spiritual good of those to whom he formerly min- 
istered, "whom God hath counted him worthy to 

222 



JOHN BUNYAN 

beget to faith by his ministry." "The remembrance 
of my great sins, of my great temptations, and of my 
great fears of perishing forever bring afresh to my 
mind the remembrance of my great help from heaven. 
He would therefore incite them to "search also for 
the hid treasure of their first and second experience 
of the grace of God." 

Of the style in which he wrote it, which is essen- 
tially the style of all his works, adopted for the 
reason here given, he says: "I could have stepped into 
a style much higher than this in which I have dis- 
coursed, but I dare not." God did not play in 
dealing with him, he said, neither did he himself 
play when he sank as into a bottomless pit and the 
pangs of hell caught hold of him. Therefore he may 
not play in telling the story, but "be plain and simple 
and lay down the thing as it was. He that likes 
it may receive it, he that does not, let him 
produce a better." 

No better rule for the formation of a good style 
could be given than that thus adopted by Bunyan 
and contained in the words "be plain and simple, 
and lay down the thing as it was." So Lincoln ac- 
quired his wonderful style. It was the result of 
his honest endeavor to tell the exact truth — to 
express and "lay down the thing as it was." 

This rule does not exclude proper use of the imagi- 
nation. It indeed requires this sometimes. Many 
times it is not possible "to lay down the thing as 
it was" without the aid of apt illustration. Subjects 
that are obscure to the common intelligence, like 
those of religion and its ideals, and the abstruse 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

themes of philosophy, require the illumination given 
by the imagination. As visitors to Mammoth Cave 
would get no adequate conception of the magnitude 
and wondrous beauty of its jeweled chambers, 
except by the illuminating light of their torches, so 
explorers of all dark subjects would have no clear 
ideas in regard to them, no perception of their full 
meaning and real charm, but for the imagination's 
help. The writings of Bunyan are good examples 
of this truth. The attractive charm possessed by 
them is largely due to the imaginative light thrown 
upon them. 

The most famous of his writings, "The Pilgrim's 
Progress," was conceived and largely composed in 
the last year of his imprisonment. Like all his works, 
its thought, lessons, and inspiration were derived 
from the Bible. Comparing it with Dante's great 
work, Dr. John Brown truly says: " 'The Pilgrim's 
Progress' is an English flower, as the 'Divina Corn- 
media' is a Tuscan flower, grown on Jewish soil." 
One is as much a work of genius as the other. Their 
immortality, their unfading popularity with all 
classes of people, place them in the same rank. It 
is interesting to know how it originated and was 
composed. 

The idea of it came to him while engaged with 
another work. It came to him as an inspiration, 
like Mozart's Requiem. It took possession of his 
mind, captivated, and engrossed it completely 
until it was finished. 

He wrote it to please himself, without any thought, 
at first, of its publication or of the fame it was to 

224 



JOHN BUNYAN 

bring him. Indeed he tells us in his homely "apol- 
ogy" for it, that when finished he hesitated to give 
it to the world and in his doubt consulted his friends 
about it. 

"Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so. 
Some said, it might do good; others said, No. 
Now I was in a strait, and did not see 
Which was the best thing to be done by me; 
At last I thought, since you are thus divided, 
I print it will; and so the case decided." 

It cost him no painful effort to produce it. It 
sprang from his fertile mind like a spring flower 
from its native soil when quickened by the sunshine. 
In the doing of it there was no conscious elaboration. 
His thick-coming thoughts and fancies were, he 
says, "like sparks from coals of fire," spontaneous, 
unforced, and eager to find expression. 

"Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 
And quickly had my thoughts in black and white." 

Concerning its characteristics little need be said, 
because they are so well known. Few there are of 
English stock but have read and appreciated its 
imaginative picturesqueness, its graphic descrip- 
tions, its genial humor, and childlike naturalness. 
It charmed and instructed us in childhood and still 
retains its spell over us in our adult years even to the 
end of life. Dean Stanley has truly said of it: "The 
pilgrimage Bunyan described is the pilgrimage of 
every one of us, and the combination of neighbors, 
friends and enemies whom he saw in his dream 
are the same as we see in our actual lives." 

No other book depicts so vividly our varied 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

religious experiences, our spiritual needs, our fears, 
and our hopes, and the exaltation of mind granted 
to us in our better moments. In short, it has the 
elements of universality and stability characteristic 
of the highest works of genius, which make it agree- 
able to all classes and creeds, "a religious bond to 
the whole of English Christendom," and acceptable 
to the people of all time. Though the peculiar 
theology of Bunyan's day has become obsolete in 
most churches, and been supplanted by another 
whose doctrinal statements differ widely from it, 
strange to say, this change has hardly touched the 
truth and power of "The Pilgrim's Progress." It 
is vital still with the essential truth of Christianity. 
This has remained and will remain as invulnerable 
to attack from such changes as the teaching of the 
New Testament. With the good in them it accords; 
the error like a touchstone it reveals. Written 
after that remarkable "inlet into the word of God," 
which came to him in prison, in consequence of 
which he said: "The Scriptures that I saw nothing in 
before are made in this place to shine upon me. Here 
I have seen Jesus Christ, and felt Him indeed," the 
Christian truth with which his mind was thus im- 
bued, and which he endeavored to embody in his 
story, was well-nigh free — purged as by fire — from 
error, so that Dean Stanley's words at the unveiling 
of Bunyan's statue in Bedford, in 1874, are forever 
true of the situations and experiences described in 
the transparent, lifelike allegory: "All of us need 
to be cheered by the help of Greatheart and Stead- 
fast and Valiant for the Truth, and good old Honest. 

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JOHN BUNYAN 

Some of us have been in Doubting Castle, some in 
the Slough of Despond, some have experienced the 
temptations of Vanity Fair: all of us have to climb 
the Hill Difficulty, all of us need to be instructed 
by the Interpreter in the House Beautiful; all of 
us bear the same burden; all of us need the same 
armor in our fight with Apollyon; all of us have to 
pass through the dark river; and for all of us (if 
God so will) there wait the Shining Ones at the 
gates of the Celestial City, which when we see, we 
wish ourselves among them." 

The first part of this immortal work was published 
in imperfect form in 1678. Three editions were 
called for and published within a year (the last, only, 
having the completed form), showing that it leaped 
at once into the popularity which it has ever since 
enjoyed. Nathaniel Ponder at the sign of the 
Peacock was its publisher. "A modern artist," 
says Dr. Brown, "has painted a picture to indicate 
the instant popularity of it. A scholar is coming 
out from under the sign of the Peacock, and a peas- 
ant, whip in one hand and money in the other, going 
in, while near the shop-door are a gay gallant and a 
fair lady, schoolboys and grave men, all intently 
reading that story of the 'Pilgrim' they have pur- 
chased over the counter within. The picture is 
true of the time then, and true to the time now." 

The second part, with the story of the pilgrimage 
of Christiana and her children with their companions, 
was given to the world early in 1685. The spelling 
of the book was the spelling of an uneducated man, 
calling for correction, but the style of it was Bunyan's 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

own style, incapable of much amendment. An 
English clergyman, Joshua Gilpin, Vicar of Wrock- 
wardine, in 1811, published "a new and corrected 
edition, in which the phraseology of the author is 
somewhat improved," but the alleged improve- 
ment was not accepted by the public as such. The 
vicar, though a highly educated man and with the 
best intentions in the world, was not a good judge 
of style and "the phraseology" best suited to the 
work. 

Bunyan survived the completion of his great work 
about three years and a half, dying in London, 
August 31, 1688, having journeyed thither to place 
the MS. of a new book, "The Acceptable Sacrifice," 
with his publisher. His death was owing to a fever 
contracted from exposure to a drenching rain en- 
countered on the way from Reading to London. 
He had visited Reading, which lay considerably 
out of his way, on an errend of mercy — happily 
successful. It was to bring about the reconciliation 
of an angry father with his wayward son. Before 
his fever had developed he was able to preach, of a 
Sunday, near White Chapel. The concluding words 
of his sermon, and the last words heard from his 
lips from the pulpit, were: "Consider that the holy 
God is your father, and let this oblige you to live 
like the children of God, that you may look your 
father in the face with comfort another day." 

He was buried in the heart of London, in Bunhill 
Fields, "the Campo Santo of Dissenters," as it has 
been called, where the bodies of John Owen, George 
Fox, Isaac Watts, Daniel Defoe, Susannah Wesley, 



JOHN BUNYAN 

and many other notable persons have been buried. 
Such was the reverence felt for his piety that many 
of his contemporaries desired with their dying breath 
that their bodies might be buried near his in the 
expectation of being associated with him in the 
Resurrection Day. Such respect for a man's good- 
ness and sanctity by his contemporaries is not always 
enduring. Time and research into the hidden things 
of his life often discover flaws in his character which 
change contemporary renown into later disrepute. 
Not so with Bunyan , Lapse of time and the survey 
of his work and character, unbiased by religious 
prejudice, have only added luster and new respect 
to his name. An interesting proof of it is seen in 
a recent item of news that has come to us from Eng- 
land. It is this, that a movement has lately been 
started there to place in Westminster Abbey a me- 
morial window to John Bunyan, which has been 
heartily favored by the Archbishop of Canterbury 
and other dignitaries of the Anglican Church as 
well as by distinguished men of various dissenting 
religious bodies; and a committee has been appointed 
to raise the required sum of five thousand pounds 
for the fulfillment of the plan. 

Such a memorial, in that place, inaugurated with 
appropriate religious ceremony, will be a beatifica- 
tion of John Bunyan by the Anglican Church and 
other Protestant bodies as worthy to be reckoned, 
despite the persecution and scorn heaped upon him 
when living, among the saints and heroes of the 
Christian faith, and among the noblest exemplars 
of its sanctifying power. 

229 



VII 
FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 



VII 
FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

Born in London, February 3, 1816: Died in 
Brighton, August 15, 1853. 

Robertson, all things considered, we regard as the 
most remarkable English preacher of the nineteenth 
century. He died at the early age of thirty seven, 
and his active ministry covered a period of only 
thirteen years ; but in this brief period he did a work 
and fulfilled a ministry that, for depth and extent 
of its ultimate influence, was scarcely equaled by 
any contemporary in the labors of twice this length 
of time. Notable is the fact that this great influence 
was mainly a posthumous influence, scarcely recog- 
nized while he was living, and then only by a limited 
portion of the English religious public, but wrought 
by his published sermons and by the publication of 
his "Life and Letters," prepared by Rev. Stopford 
Brooke, and given to the world twelve years after 
Robertson's death. Those sermons, widely read 
by ministers of all denominations and Christian 
laymen throughout the English-speaking world, ex- 
cited the profoundest and most lively interest by 
their freshness and originality of thought, their 
novel statement of Christian truth and their impres- 
sive style. As the writer recalls the impression 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

which those sermons made on his own mind when 
a Seminary student reading them as they first ap- 
peared, it seems to him now that they made upon 
him a deeper impression than the published sermons 
of any preacher he ever read. They awakened a 
sustained interest by their suggestiveness and origi- 
nality, so that one did not soon tire of reading them; 
they stirred and purified the heart by their noble 
sentiments; they fructified the mind with seed 
thoughts which yielded an abundant harvest. They 
were the work of a man endowed with a rare genius 
perfected by careful training and self-culture, and 
refined by piety and suffering. 

I. His Family and Early Home Environment 

He belonged to a military family. His grand- 
father, Colonel Robertson, in whose house in London 
he was born, was a distinguished officer in the Eng- 
lish army, and wounded in the service. His father 
was a captain in the Royal Artillery. Of his three 
brothers, two, Charles and Harry, won frequent 
honorable mention in the Kaffir war, and Struan 
was a captain in the Royal South Lincoln militia. 
The first five years of his life were passed at Leith 
Fort, near Edinburgh, where his father was stationed 
and where he says "he was rocked and cradled to the 
roar of artillery." The conversation of home was 
of war and its exploits. Thus he was fed and nur- 
tured from infancy through childhood and youth 
upon the anecdotes and associations of a soldier's 
life. Heredity and early environment contributed 

234 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

to produce in him a martial spirit, and make him 
eager for a soldier's career. This martial spirit 
gave a tone to his ministry and was one of the ele- 
ments of power in his pulpit eloquence as in that of 
Chrysostom. 

His father and mother were pious devout people 
of the evangelical type. The atmosphere of his 
early home was made sweet and wholesome by the 
best influences of religion. They were also people 
of culture and refinement and moved in a social 
circle of the best class. 



II. Education and Mental Development 

The father was his children's earliest teacher, and 
he superintended their instruction for several years 
after he had ceased personally to give them lessons. 
At sixteen, after having become well grounded in 
the classics and French languages, Frederick entered 
the New Academy, Edinburgh, where he at once 
took a high place in his class. He possessed the 
qualities of a superior scholar, extraordinary power 
of attention, quickness to learn, and a retentive 
memory, which enabled him in later years to "recall 
page after page of books which he had not read 
since his boyhood." He was also an intense worker 
and early formed the habit, which remained with 
him, of mastering fully whatever he studied. Besides 
studying at the Academy, he attended classes at the 
University and gave himself eagerly to studies in 
natural science, especially chemistry and physics. 
Returning home he wished to enter the army, but 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

his father, believing that this promising son was 
better fitted by nature for the Church than for the 
army, proposed to him that he should study for the 
ministry. He answered, "Anything but that; I 
am not fit for it." He was accordingly placed in 
a solicitor's office and stayed there a year until his 
health became impaired by his sedentary work, and 
the galling influence of his secret disappointment. 
His father then consented that he should follow the 
bent of his mind, and an application was made for 
a commission in the army. There was then no 
vacancy, but his name was placed on the list for a 
cavalry regiment in India. Two years he waited, 
giving himself enthusiastically, meantime, to pur- 
suits that would fit him for his anticipated career. 
He became an expert rider, a good shot, and an 
excellent draughtsman. He omitted nothing likely 
to make him a good cavalry officer. His father, 
believing from the long delay that his application 
had been forgotten and would never be successful, 
again proposed to this son to enter the Church, and 
was met again with the same decisive refusal; until 
other friends and a chain of circumstances united 
to strengthen the father's persuasions, and his son 
at length yielded. In one of his sermons in after 
years, to illustrate how God's providence shapes our 
course in life, he says: "If I had not met a certain 
person, I should not have changed my profession; 
if I had not known a certain lady I should not prob- 
ably have met this person; if that lady had not had 
a delicate daughter who was disturbed by the bark- 
ing of my dog; if my dog had not barked that night, 

236 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

I should now have been in the dragoons or fertilizing 
the soil of India." The decision made, he promptly 
acted upon it and entered Brasenose College, Oxford 
University, being matriculated May 4, 1837. Five 
days afterwards, the long-expected letter came from 
the military secretary of the English government, 
offering him a cavalry commission in the Second 
Dragoons with the option of exchange in the third 
just embarking for India. Had the letter arrived 
three weeks sooner, he had never entered the Church. 
He was then twenty-one years old. 

Though with characteristic submission of spirit 
he resigned himself to what he believed to be God's 
will, the disappointment nevertheless saddened his 
whole life. He never ceased to think of what might 
have been had his wish for a soldier's career been 
gratified, and he indulged a secret, but sometimes 
expressed regret that he had not been permitted to 
realize it. "All his life long," his biographer says, 
"he was a soldier at heart." In the height of his 
popularity as a preacher, he said: "I would rather 
have led a forlorn hope than mount the pulpit 
stairs." 

The time covered by his life as a student at Oxford, 
1837-1840, was one of great interest. Among his 
contemporaries were Arthur Stanley and Ruskin; 
among his teachers were Buckland, the geologist, 
and Thomas Arnold, illustrious both as the great 
teacher of Rugby School and as lecturer upon history 
in Oxford. He speaks of Arnold as "every inch a 
man"; and has given us a picture of his appearance 
at his opening lecture on Modern History when, after 

237 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

years of obloquy, he was received then with great 
honor. "He walked up to the rostrum with a quiet 
step and manly dignity." Few, however, exercised 
much influence over Robertson; he was rather the 
magnet that drew others to himself. 

The Tractarian movement was nearing its cul- 
mination. He shared the excitement produced by 
the writings of Newman, Pusey and Keble. He 
heard J. H. Newman preach some of his most famous 
sermons and was deeply impressed by his preach- 
ing. But he never adopted the distinctive opinions 
and ideas of the Tractarians. On the contrary, he 
resisted and actively combatted them. He read 
carefully the literature bearing upon the subject 
and formed from these studies a conviction from 
which he never swerved, that the Tractarian lead- 
ers were in error as to the principal things they 
contended for. 

His biographer, speaking several years later of 
his attitude of mind toward the views of the High- 
Church piety, says: "It may be well here to set 
that question at rest. He had no sympathy with 
their views; but he had a great deal of sympathy 
with the men who held them, with their self-devotion, 
and with their writings. He reverenced the self- 
sacrificing work they were performing among poor 
and neglected parishes. He said that, as a body, 
they had reasserted the doctrine of a spiritual 
resurrection, which had been almost put out of 
sight by the 'Evangelical' party. He read New- 
man's sermons with profit and delight till the day 
of his death. There was no book which he studied 

238 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

more carefully or held in higher honor than the 
'Christian Year' (of Keble). It seemed to him that 
some of its poems were little short of inspired. He 
saw in the importance which the Tractarians gave 
to forms a valuable element which he never lost 
sight of in his teaching. Only, while they seemed to 
say that forms could produce life, he said that forms 
were necessary only to support life; but for that 
they were necessary. To use his own illustration: 
'Bread will not create life, but life cannot be kept 
up without bread.' On the subject of baptism he 
felt no sympathy with the Evangelical view, which 
left it doubtful whether the baptized child was a 
child of God or not; but because the Tractarian 
view declared that all baptized persons were children 
of God, he could so far sympathize with it. But 
on all other points, starting as he did from the basis 
that baptism declared, and did not create the fact 
of sonship, his difference was radical." 

In his endeavor to get at the Scriptural teaching 
upon the questions discussed he studied the Bible 
most diligently and thoroughly. "It was his habit 
when dressing in the morning to commit to memory 
daily a certain number of verses of the New Testa- 
ment. In this way, before leaving the University, 
he had gone twice over the English version and 
once and a half through the Greek. With his 
extraordinary power of arrangement, he mentally 
combined and recombined all the prominent texts 
under fixed heads of subjects. Owing to this prac- 
tice, as he declared afterwards, no sooner was any 
Christian doctrine or duty mentioned or suggested 

239 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

to him by what he was writing than all the pas- 
sages bearing on the point seemed to array them- 
selves in order before him." 

This incidental benefit, due largely to the Trac- 
tarian agitation, was of priceless benefit to him. 
There was another result, however, which he rightly 
or wrongly, much deplored. It was that of desul- 
tory discoursive reading. Instead of "reading for 
honors" i.e. — confining his attention to the few 
books and topics recommended in the college curric- 
ulum, and by thorough mastery of them according 
to a definite plan seeking to win class honors, he 
was led by the excitement of the controversy, ques- 
tions of the day, "gleams and flashings of new paths 
of learning," to desert the prescribed course and 
follow whithersoever they might draw him, having 
no plan to guide him. Ten or twelve years after 
he left the University he says: "I now feel that I 
was utterly, mournfully, irreparably wrong. I 
would now give £200 a year to have read on a bad 
plan, chosen for me, but steadily." 

But though his reading was thus somewhat mis- 
cellaneous, he did not fall into the fault of that 
"careless, multifarious reading," which, he says, 
"is an excuse for the mind to lie dormant whilst 
thought is poured in and runs through a clear stream, 
over unproductive gravel on which not even mosses 
grow," and which he reprobates as "the idlest of all 
idlenesses, and leaves more of impotency than any 
other." "I know what reading is," he said, when 
shattered health forbade close reading, "for I could 
read once and did. I read hard (at the University), 

240 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

or not at all, never skimming, and Plato, Aristotle, 
Butler, Thucydides, Jonathan Edwards passed like 
the iron atoms of the blood into my mental con- 
stitution." Besides these writers he read much and 
attentively Coleridge, Shelley, Shakespeare and 
Wordsworth. Though not a writer of poetry him- 
self he had a poet's sensitiveness to the attractions 
of nature, and the appeal of human life in its differ- 
ent phases of heroic sublimity, romance, and touch- 
ing pathos. He did not make many friends at 
Oxford and was not widely known, his dispositon 
inclining him to seclusion and solitariness. He 
was by nature shy and diffident. Except to his 
intimate friends he was reserved and taciturn, at 
the same time preserving a proud independence of 
spirit, which made him pursue his own course rather 
than be a follower of others. 

III. His Ministry 

The thirteen years and a few weeks of his min- 
isterial life were passed in four places: Winchester, 
two years; Cheltenham, five years; Oxford, three 
months; Brighton, six years. 

At Winchester, he began his work at twenty-four 
years of age, being ordained deacon July 12, 1840: 
he served as curate, or assistant, of Mr. Nicholson, 
rector of a large parish located among a very poor 
population, where there was much infidelity and 
immorality. His rector was an earnest, devoted 
man, in whom he found "a faithful friend whose 
sympathy cheered, and whose experience guided 

16 241 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

him." The work was hard and beset with difficul- 
ties, but "the difficulties of his position were his 
stimulus." They appealed to the soldier spirit in 
him. He labored with all his heart among the poor, 
and the working men, and was "so earnest, courteous 
and eager to serve that in a great measure he over- 
came their prejudices." His way of life, as described 
by one of his Winchester friends, was regular and 
simple: "Study all the morning, getting up early 
and eating almost no breakfast in order to be able 
to apply himself to work; in the afternoon, hard 
fagging at visitation of the poor in the dirtiest streets 
of Winchester; evenings, spent sometimes alone, 
but often with his rector." "He devoted much of 
his time to the Sunday school and made the teaching 
system attractive and useful by training the teachers 
himself." "A vein of melancholy ran through 
his character." Not much society was offered to 
him and he did not wish for it. "He was disposed 
to regard general society as a waste of time." He 
found devotional reading profitable and inspiring, 
especially the lives of eminently holy persons whose 
tone was one of communion with God. "It made 
his sense of the reality of religious feeling more 
acute when he found it embodied in the actions of 
men who expressed it." "Brainerd's Life," written 
by Edwards, he greatly valued. "To my taste," 
he said, "it stands alone as a specimen of biography." 
He gave much time to prayer and this gave tone to 
his preaching. "His sermons touched men to the 
quick. They were delivered with great ease and 
self-command, witl; vivid action, and an impassioned 

242 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

earnest manner that made every word tell." Though 
his biographer says: "The sermons preached at 
Winchester do not exhibit much power, are start- 
lingly inferior to those delivered at Brighton, and 
do not, to the reader, even foretell his future excel- 
lence"; one of his constant hearers says: "His ser- 
mons did prophesy his future excellence. I am dis- 
posed to say that they were never at any time more 
impressive." 

This difference of opinion can be reconciled, 
we think. The sermons of Winchester were of the 
common evangelical type; their doctrine, that of 
the traditional theology of the Evangelical School 
in which he had grown up. They sound a familiar 
note, which the widely diffused literature of that 
school has made trite and almost commonplace. 
Those of Brighton, however, were the product of a 
mind that had, through study and personal con- 
viction, so changed and modified his earlier opinions 
of the Evangelical School, that a new and startling 
note is heard in them and a note of stronger personal 
passion and conviction, because the preacher knew 
that his teaching was likely to encounter prejudice 
and an opposition such as new statements or modi- 
fications of religious truth and departures from the 
beaten paths of theological statements and belief 
are certain to create. 

Robertson's health broke down under the system 
of austere regimen, hard study, and unrelaxing toil 
which he had adopted. Toward the end of the first 
year a distressing pain in the side and an alarming 
cough developed. His spirits sank, he became 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

despondent and his physicians ordered him to leave 
his work and go to Switzerland. Before his depar- 
ture, he passed the examination for priest's orders, 
at which he presented so remarkable a paper upon 
the duties and work of the diaconate, in connection 
with the personal narrative of his own experience 
in the office, that the bishop "retained it and gave it 
to future candidates to read as a noble example of 
the spirit and mode in which the diaconate should 
be fulfilled." And yet, such was Robertson's mor- 
bid spirit and disposition to depreciate his work, 
that he looked back upon it with shame and a sense 
of failure. 

Proceeding to the continent he traveled on foot 
up the Rhine, through portions of Germany on to 
Switzerland. Through the excitement of healthy 
exercise and change of scene his sadness gradually 
passed away and his health was partially restored. 
He keenly appreciated the beautiful and sublime 
in nature and the interesting traditions of the Rhine 
Valley, so that every step of the storied way was a 
delight to him. 

Arrived in Geneva, having introductions to some 
of its people of social eminence, he soon formed a 
circle of valuable acquaintance. He entered eagerly 
into the discussions, social and religious, which then 
agitated the city. His brilliant powers of conversa- 
tion, his intelligence and enthusiasm charmed all 
whom he met. Under the quickening influence 
of his improved health, he became much altered for 
the better, as if actually transformed. 

He met there in Geneva the illustrious Cesar 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

Malan, and had more than one eager discussion 
with him over religious and theological questions, 
in regard to which they differed. Malan, saga- 
ciously discerning in these conversations the excit- 
able and despondent nature of the young man, said 
to him: "My dear Brother, you will have a sad life, 
a sad ministry." He met there also, in Geneva, 
his future wife, Helen Denys, the daughter of an 
English Baronet, and after a short acquaintance 
married her, and soon returned to England. But 
owing to still lingering traces of ill health, he was 
forbidden to take a ministerial charge for several 
months. At length, he was given a curacy in Chelten- 
ham, and he entered upon its duties in the summer of 
1842 at the age of twenty-six. Here, as at Win- 
chester, he was happy and fortunate in being asso- 
ciated with a rector, Rev. Archibald Boyd, whom he 
greatly respected and admired. Mr Robertson 
usually preached in the afternoon, and "he soon 
began to exercise upon his congregation his peculiar 
power of fascination." It was the fascination, not 
merely of an entrancing voice and pleasing delivery, 
but of a powerful, inspiring mind, rich in thought 
and animated by deep spiritual cravings and moral 
earnestness to do good. One who heard him at the 
beginning of his ministry in Cheltenham says: "I 
was not merely struck, I was startled by the sermon. 
The high order of thought, the large and clear con- 
ception, the breadth of view, the passion held in 
leash, the tremulously earnest tone, the utter f orget- 
fulness of self in his subject, and the abundance of 
the heart out of which the mouth spake, made me feel 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

that here, indeed, was one whom it would be well 
to miss no opportunity of hearing." "From the 
first," says this informant, "he largely swayed those 
minds which had any point of contact with his own. 
In spite of what he says of Cheltenham, he had very 
many hearers there, who knew how to rate him at 
his proper value, before a larger public had indorsed 
it. Nor was it among the laymen and women of 
Cheltenham alone that he made his influence felt. 
At the clerical meetings he attended, he would for 
the most part remain silent, but sometimes when 
many of his brethren were in difficulty about the 
meaning of a text he would startle them by saying 
a few simple words, which shed a flood of new light 
upon the passage. He never put himself forward, 
but his talents were none the less recognized and 
held in honor by the foremost of his brother clergy- 
men." 

He exercised his peculiar fascination not only in 
the pulpit and upon gatherings of clergymen, but 
by his conversation in social circles. "He was a 
marvelously bright and eloquent talker," his biog- 
rapher says, and "he was cordially welcome every- 
where." "Perhaps his influence on society was more 
powerful, as more insensible, than his influence in 
the pulpit." Society on the other hand greatly 
stimulated and influenced him. "Some of his 
highest and best thoughts were kindled by sparks 
which fell from the minds of his friends. His inter- 
course even with inferiors in intelligence and culture 
was always fruitful. He took their ideas and, 
putting the stamp of his own mind upon them, 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

used them to serve his purpose. "It was not that 
he unfairly appropriated what belonged to others, 
but that he made it his own by the same tenure as 
property is first held, by the worth he gave to it." 
To such a man society is helpful and necessary 
that he may do his best. 

Three things contributed greatly to the develop- 
ment and enrichment of his mind in Cheltenham: 
friends, the social atmosphere of the town, and the 
books he read. Prominent among his friends was 
Mr. Boyd, his rector. "The influence of this friend- 
ship," says his biographer, "was clearly marked. 
It bore fruit in his sermons. Under the impulse 
given by those of Mr. Boyd, they became entirely 
changed in character. Instead of writing them in 
one morning, without preparation, as at Winchester 
[which method is essentially that of mere improvisa- 
tion, in which what is written is superficial, coming 
from the top of the mind, instead of from its richer 
depths], he studied for them on Thursday and Friday, 

and wrote them carefully on Saturday 

Their tone was more intellectual, without being 
less earnest; their generalizations more daring and 
their practical teaching wider. Through the ideal 
which this friendship created, much of his peculiar 
intellectual power in preaching was drawn to the 

light." 

Another friendship was formed with a gentleman 
well-read in metaphysics and acquainted with the 
results of recent theological and philosophical dis- 
cussions in Germany. Their conversations were 
frequent and interesting and actuated by love of 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

the truth; and "it was partially, at least, due to this 
friendship that Mr. Robertson escaped from the 
trammels which had confined his intellect and spirit." 
The social atmosphere of Cheltenham was that of 
a fashionable watering place, or health resort like 
Saratoga. It was frequented, like Saratoga, by 
religious people, especially of the Evangelical sort. 
At that time it was a "hotbed of religious excite- 
ment." The controversy of the "Tracts for the 
Times" was at its height. There were the usual 
tests of orthodoxy applied to every new clergyman, 
and the usual ban placed on those who could not 
repeat the accepted Shibboleth. To hold certain 
doctrines and to speak certain phrases and to feel 
certain feelings was counted equivalent to a Chris- 
tian life by many in the congregations. There was 
in all this talk much sham and religious pretense 
which voiced itself in hollow cant. At first, with 
unquestioning charity he believed that all who 
spoke of Christ were Christlike. "His truthful 
character, his earnestness, at first unconsciously 
and afterwards consciously, recoiled from all the 
unreality about him. So disgusted was he by the 
expression of religious emotion which fell from those 
who were living a merely fashionable life," that he 
gave up reading devotional books (which he after- 
wards confessed was a mistake), lest he should 
fall into the same habit. He was also shocked by 
the intolerance and harsh criticisms indulged in by 
the orthodox people and the religious papers of the 
Evangelical School, like the Record and the 
Guardian, which denounced suspected men with- 

248 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

out any regard to the truth of their charges. "They 
tell lies in the name of God," he said, and their 
dishonesty and bigotry shook his faith in the Evan- 
gelical system. The misrepresentations and imperti- 
nences of what he called "his muslin Episcopate" 
(the coterie of gossiping women who tried to shape 
his opinions and curb the freedom and honesty of 
his speech) added to his estrangement from the 
Evangelical party, until, in his strong reprobation 
of the faults of that party and reaction from their 
offensive dogmatism, he found himself gradually 
parting from the school in which he had been reared 
and with which he had so far worked. He unfairly 
charged upon the Evangelical system of doctrine 
the faults of its adherents and advocates. He forgot 
that the truth may have false adherents and faulty 
people that advocate it, as well as error. In his 
loss of confidence in a portion of the Evangelical 
School he was disposed to repudiate entirely their 
theology, notwithstanding the fact that it was held 
by his father and mother, and had been held by 
some of the most saintly people in the past, like 
Simeon, Wilberforce, Scott, Newton and Venn. 
"It must be said," admits his biographer, "that 
he himself showed but scant justice to the Evangel- 
ical party. He seems to have imputed to all its 
adherents the views of the Record newspaper. 
He sometimes forces conclusions upon them which 
the great body of them would repudiate. He uncon- 
sciously overstates, in his letters, some of their 
opinions." He went too far, no doubt, so far as to 
be unjust to the system he thus forsook. The 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

influence of the social atmosphere of Cheltenham 
on Robertson's mind was, therefore, to a great 
extent baneful. It developed in him an antagonism 
and bitterness of spirit; a bewilderment of mind 
whose effect for a time was to make him severe 
and uncharitable in his judgments; an uncertainty 
in regard to the truth until emancipated from a 
narrow traditionalism by accession of new light and 
broadened and strengthened in other ways. "When 
he escaped from it," his biographer says, "he sprang 
from a dwarf into a giant." 

But the break with the evangelical faith in which 
he had been reared, and which he held in the earlier 
years of his ministry at Cheltenham, did not come 
suddenly. It was gradual, and not complete for 
some time; not until he had ended his work in 
Cheltenham. During the process his mind was 
clouded, and he groped blindly for the truth. It 
was apparent in his preaching, so that his intimate 
friends perceived it by the uncertainty of his tone 
and the obscurity of his utterances — something 
unusual with him. "One of these," we are told, 
"who was with him at the English Lakes, said to 
him one day with some sharpness, pointing to the 
summit of Skiddaw, which was unseen the while 
for mist, — T would not have my head like the peak 
of that mountain, involved, as we see it now, in 
cloud, for all that you would offer me.' T would,' 
rejoined Robertson, 'for by and by the cloud and 
mist will roll away, and the sun will come down upon 
it in all his glory.' " 

His faith was justified. To another friend, later 

250 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

on, he wrote: "A man ought to burn his own smoke 
if he cannot convert it into clear flame. I am quite 
willing to struggle on in twilight until the light 
comes. Manly struggle cannot fail. Only a man 
must struggle alone. His own view of truth, or 
rather his own way of viewing it and that alone, 
will give him rest." 

It is not strange that, while his mind was in this 
state, and his pulpit utterances so affected by it, 
he was misunderstood, misrepresented, and criticised 
by some of his hearers. This was galling to his 
sensitive nature, and made him think that his work 
was an entire failure. "Through the mist which 
his own sensitiveness (and doubts) created he saw 
the misconceptions of a few magnified into a phantom 
of failure." But he struggled on to the end of his 
work in Cheltenham, doing faithfully what his 
pastoral office required. He was especially pains- 
taking, here, as in every parish he served, in the 
preparation of his class of young persons for confirma- 
tion. "The labor which every year he bestowed 
upon this work," says his biographer, "was great. 
He personally interested himself in all the candidates. 
The heavier the clay, the more pains in his tillage." 

The influence of his reading and studies was to 
expand and enrich his mind. He read widely and 
thoughtfully. Carlyle, Niebuhr, Guizot, works on 
natural science, Tennyson and Dante, he thoroughly 
studied and appreciated. Dante, he read daily 
and committed the whole of the "Inferno" to 
memory. Tennyson's poems were devoured as they 
appeared. Of Tennyson's "In Memoriam," he said: 

251 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

"To me it has been the richest treasure I have had. 
It is the most precious work published this century.' ' 

"He had a useful habit of reading on the questions 
of the day. Owing to it he was always ready with 
a well-considered view of all the subjects which had 
agitated the country during his career." Most 
important of all, he read constantly and critically 
the Bible, the Old Testament and the New. He 
studied the Gospel until he made the mind of Christ 
his own and the personality of Christ as real as that 
of his most intimate friend. He read not only for 
the joy which knowledge gives, but to quicken his 
mind to creative power. To a friend he gave this 
counsel, basing his advice, no doubt, upon his own 
practice: "Receive, imbibe and then your mind 
will create. Poets are creators because recipients. 
They open their hearts to Nature instead of going 
to her with views of her already made and second- 
hand: they come from her and give out what they 
have felt and what she said to them. So with Scrip- 
ture; patient, quiet, long-revering listening to it; 
then, suggestions." 

He made one great mistake, that of neglecting 
to take regular outdoor exercise. In deference to 
what was thought suitable to a clergyman, "he 
allowed himself none of the healthful exercises which 
he loved except an occasional walk and ride into 
the country." To a person of his morbid, sensitive 
nature, smarting under criticism and given to brood- 
ing over and magnifying the import of what he heard 
said of himself, Nature's influence was especially 
needed as an antidote to his vexed and distempered 

252 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

soul. He needed the tranquil effect of her magnifi- 
cence and calm, and when tired and exhausted with 
study, he needed the restorative invigorating effect 
of pure air and exercise amid her diverting scenes 
and beautiful objects. Happy would it have been 
for him had he acted upon the advice of his favorite 
poet, Wordsworth: — 

"Come forth into the light of things, 
Let Nature be your teacher. 
***** 

"She has a world of ready wealth, 
Our minds and hearts to bless, — 
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health, 
Truth breathed by cheerfulness, 

"One impulse from a vernal wood 
May teach you more of man, 
Of moral evil and of good, 
Than all the sages can. 

"Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; 
Our meddling intellect 
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things, 
We murder to dissect. 

"Enough of Science and of Art! 
Close up those barren leaves; 
Come forth, and bring with you a heart 
That watches and receives." 

Wordsworth's The Tables Turned. 

Near the end of five years his position in Chel- 
tenham became intolerable and he resolved that he 
must sunder his connection with the church he was 
serving and the Evangelical School with which 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

he had been identified. "Within its pale, for him, 
there was henceforth neither life, peace, nor reality." 

Acting upon this conviction he started for the 
continent in September, 1846, in the middle of the 
thirty-first year of his age, going directly to the 
Tyrol by way of Munich, and to the vicinity of 
Innsbruck; thence, later, on to Switzerland and 
then to Heidelberg, where, for six or eight Sundays 
in the absence of the chaplain of the English con- 
gregation, he occupied the pulpit to the great delight 
of the people. 

In the six or eight weeks spent in the Tyrol and 
Switzerland he passed through the great spiritual 
crisis of his life. The sublime scenery of the Alpine 
region and the healthful exercise he took in exploring 
it afforded the medicine he needed. There he 
wrestled with his doubts and fears, and conquered. 
The stages of the conflict are veiled in mystery. 
His biographer does not describe them, nor does 
Robertson himself do more than hint at them. He 
kept no diary that has ever been found, by whose 
records we can trace them. The following passage, 
however, in a lecture to the workingmen of Brighton 
refers to this crisis in his religious faith: "It is an 
awful moment when the soul begins to feel the noth- 
ingness of many of the traditional opinions which 
have been received with implicit confidence, and 
in that horrible insecurity begins also to doubt 
whether there be anything to believe at all. In that 
fearful loneliness of spirit, when those who should 
have been his friends and counselors bid him stifle 
his doubts, to extinguish as a glare from hell that 

254 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

which for aught he knows may be light from heaven, 
and everything seemed wrapped in hideous uncer- 
tainty, I know of but one way in which a man may 
come forth from his agony scathless; it is by holding 
fast to those things that are certain still — the grand 
simple landmarks of morality. If there be no God 
and no future state, yet even then it is better to be 
generous than selfish, better to be chaste than licen- 
tious, better to be true than false, brave than a 
coward. Blessed beyond all earthly blessedness is 
the man who in the tempestuous darkness of the 
soul has dared to hold fast to those venerable land- 
marks. Thrice blessed, because his night shall pass 
into clear bright day, with a faith and hope and 
trust no longer traditional, but his own." Dr. 
Brastow's statement seems to be a good summary 
of the truth: "All such changes are likely to come 
gradually and the process is likely to be obscure. 
Without doubt in his case the transformation was 
more gradual and inward and silent than appears 
at the surface of his life, although the culmination 
was rapid, and seems to have been limited to the 
course of a few months, after which he emerged into 
a new and singularly sudden consciousness of power, 
and his growth thence onward is marvelous." 
("Representative Preachers.") 

After an absence of only three months he returned 
to Cheltenham, but to no more service there in the 
ministry, having resigned his curacy while at Heidel- 
berg. 

While waiting for another charge he said: "If I 
take work, it must be single-handed. I can no 

255 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

longer brook to walk in leading strings (as curate to 
a rector)." 

He wrote to Wilberforce, then bishop of Oxford, 
and asked for employment. The bishop offered 
him the charge of St. Ebbe's, Oxford, a church in 
one of the worst parts of the town. He accepted 
the charge, and immediately his preaching there 
attracted attention. "The undergraduates, a sensi- 
tive touchstone of a man's worth, dropped in one by 
one at first, and then rushed to hear him in crowds." 
Here for the first time he was entirely free, able to 
say, without opposition from without, without a 
shadow of inward restraint, the thing in his own 
heart. Here, too, for the first time, perhaps, he 
rested firmly on principles which he had secured at 
the price of a terrible spiritual contest. He became 
more peaceful. The dark shadow of failure began 
to pass away." 

Of the light into which he had come, and the 
resulting assurance henceforth enjoyed by him he 
thus speaks in his later letters: "I would not ex- 
change the light I have for the twilight I have left 
for all that the earth can give. Clearer, brighter 
light every day and more assurance of what truth 
is and whom I serve. I walk not in doubt but in 
the light of noonday certainty." Of his pulpit 
teaching thenceforward he says: "I could not tell 
you too strongly my own deep and deepening con- 
viction that the truths which I teach are true. 
Every year they shed fresh light on one another and 
seem to stretch into immensity. They explain to 
me life, God, and the Bible; and I am certain that 

256 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

what fresh light I shall receive will be an expansion 
and not a contradiction of what I have. The prin- 
ciples are rooted in human nature, God and the 
being of things, and I find them at the root of every 
page of Scripture." 

The chief "principles" on which he taught were: 

1. The establishment of positive truth instead 
of the negative distruction of error. 

2. Spiritual truth is descerned by the spirit in- 
stead of intellectually in propositions; and there- 
fore truth should be taught suggestively not dog- 
matically. 

3. That belief in the human character of Christ's 
humanity must be antecedent to belief in his divine 
origin. 

4. That Christianity, as its teachers should, works 
from the inward to the outward, and not vice versa. 

5. That truth is made up of two opposite proposi- 
tions, and not found in a via media between the two. 

6. The soul of goodness in things evil. 

Mr. Robertson had been in charge of St. Ebbe's, 
Oxford, only two months, when the rectorship of 
Trinity Chapel, Brighton, was offered him. He 
promptly declined it with its more ample salary and 
larger prospect of influence, believing himself bound 
in honor to stay where he was. He was induced, 
however, by the trustees of Trinity to submit the 
matter to his bishop, and the bishop advised him to 
go. He accordingly entered upon his labors in 
Brighton, August 15, 1847, in his thirty-second year. 

Brighton is the great watering place of England. 
If Cheltenham is like Saratoga, Brighton is like 

17 257 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Atlantic City. It had the attractions and difficul- 
ties of such a place. Some of the trials that had 
afflicted him at Cheltenham vexed him still at 
Brighton. People of all religious schools frequented 
it, and the new rector of Trinity quickly attracted 
their attention. The conservative, critical hearers 
of the Evangelical School detected a new strange 
note in his preaching. His views of religious truth, 
his modes of stating Christian doctrines, his inter- 
pretation of the Scriptures, seemed to them not 
only novel but at variance with the traditional belief 
of the Evangelical School, and they shook their 
heads in disapproval. Soon after his coming, early 
in the year of 1848, he began a course of lectures 
on the first book of Samuel. It will be remembered 
that those were exciting times in England, and the 
Continent of Europe was heaving with the throes 
of political and social excitement and of incipient 
revolution. In the exposition of that sacred book, 
and commenting upon the events recorded there, he 
had to treat of topics that were then engrossing 
much thought, and eagerly discussed in England; 
such topics as, the rights of rulers, the rights of 
property, the rights of labor, the brotherhood of 
man, etc. Says his biographer; "It was not his 
fault that these lectures, running side by side with 
the national convulsions and social excitements of 
Europe and England, had a double interest, an 
ancient and modern one." A cry was raised against 
him. He was spoken of as a revolutionist and a 
democrat. An anonymous letter was sent to the 
bishop accusing him of preaching on political sub- 

258 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

jects in a manner calculated to disturb still more the 
feelings of the workingmen of Brighton. He an- 
swered, that "if the principles revealed in the in- 
spired history of Israelitish society happened to be 
universal, and to fit current events, it only proved 
the deep inspiration and universal character of the 
Bible, and he was not to be blamed." 

He was charged with being a Radical in politics 
and in religion. To this charge he thus replies in 
a letter to a friend: "When I first heard the charge 
of radicalism, I was astounded. I had tried to feel 
the meaning of Christ's words and to make my heart 
beat with His; and so I became what they call a 
Radical. Nevertheless the Radicals and the Chart- 
ists refuse to own me as a brother, and call me a 
rabid Tory. However, of one thing I have become 
distinctly conscious, that my motto for life, my 
whole heart's expression, is, 'None but Christ'; 
not in the (so-called) evangelical sense, which I 
take to be the sickliest cant that has appeared since 
the Pharisees bare record to the gracious words 
that he spake, and then tried to cast him headlong 
from the hill of Nazareth ; but in a deeper real sense, 
the mind of Christ; to feel as he felt; to judge the 
world and to estimate the world's maxims as he 
judged and estimated. That is to feel 'none but 
Christ.' But then in proportion as a man does 
that, he is stripping himself of garment after garment, 
till his soul becomes naked of that which once seemed 
part of himself; he is not only giving up prejudice 
after prejudice, but also renouncing sympathy after 
sympathy with friends whose smile and approbation 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

was once his life, till he begins to suspect that he 
will be very soon alone with Christ." 

Through his preaching and because of his friendly 
and sympathetic interest in the working classes, in 
common with Kingsley and Maurice, he was charged 
with Socialism, and heresy and general unsoundness. 
The Record newspaper, the organ of Evangeli- 
calism, which had expressed suspicions about him 
when in Cheltenham, resumed its attacks. Refer- 
ring to them in a letter to a friend he said: "God 
forbid they should ever praise me. One number 
alone contained four unscrupulous lies about me on 
no better evidence than that some one had told 
them, who had been told by some one else. They 
shall have no disclaimer from me. If the Record 
can put a man down, the sooner he is put down the 
better. The only time I have ever said anything 
about socialism in the pulpit has been to preach 
against it. An evangelical clergyman admitted 
some proofs I had given of the Record's dishonesty, 
but said: 'Well, in spite of that, I like it, because 
it upholds the truth, and is a great witness for reli- 
gion.' Said I, Ts that the creed of Evangelicalism? 
A man may be a liar and slanderous, and still uphold 
the truth!' He felt an ineffable scorn for such a 
Christianity as that, and denied with indignation 
this claim that the Record, as the accredited organ 
of the Evangelical party, having been admitted 
by the confession of its own followers and supporters 
to be convicted of flagrant falsehood and dishonesty, 
could be said to "uphold the truth and be a great 
witness for religion." He insisted, and rightly, 

260 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

that it was untrue to Christ and false to its own 
past history, and hence said, rather harshly perhaps, 
"The evangelicalism (so-called) of the Record 
is an emasculated cur, snarling at what is better 
than itself." 

If, in answer to his indignant inquiry, "Is that 
the creed of evangelicalism?" the supporters of that 
School assented, he did not hesitate to repudiate 
it. He was justified in doing so, as much as Luther 
and the Protestant Reformers were justified in 
seceding from the corrupt Catholic Church of their 
day. Dr. J. H. Jowett, in an admirable article 
{The Congregationalist, June 10, 1912) on "Trust- 
ing One's Instincts," rightly says, that in view of 
Christ's standard of judgment, "By their fruits ye 
shall know them": "We are not to be concerned 
with the label but with the fruit. Men are to be 
judged not by their professions, but by their charac- 
ter, not by their theology, but by their life." We lay 
the emphasis on the wrong thing, therefore, when we 
rate what has been reckoned a sound theology above 
a sound morality. Robertson, who had learned, 
as we have seen, the mind of Christ, by studying 
his teachings as few men of his time studied them, 
laid the emphasis where Christ laid it, and the 
religious world now reverences his memory for 
doing so. 

It is distasteful to us to revive the memories of 
theological controversy with its bitter rancor and 
resentments after the period of more than sixty 
years, and when the participants in it have passed 
"to the world that will decide," as Baxter says, 

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"all our controversies, and the safest passage thither 
is by peaceable holiness"; but we are justified we 
think in doing so, since thus only can Robertson's 
violent break with "Evangelicalism" be excused, 
and the heated atmosphere of his environment at 
Cheltenham and Brighton be understood. His 
biographer speaks of "the intense sensitiveness 
which pervaded his whole nature" and says it was 
"the root of all that was peculiar in Robertson's 
character and correspondence." "His senses, his 
passions, his imagination, his conscience, his spirit, 
were so delicately wrought that they thrilled and 
vibrated to the slightest touch." Made morbid 
by disease, it was unquestionably an infirmity which 
sometimes betrayed itself especially in his letters to 
intimate friends. He tried, however, conscientiously 
to curb it, and he so schooled himself to patience 
and self-control that he rarely, in public, said or 
did anything unseemly. He held on to himself, that 
as a Christian, he might show "the meekness and 
gentleness of Christ." 

But close observers discerned the truth. "His 
very calm," Lady Byron said, "was a hurricane." 
Rev. J. H. Jowett, D.D., calls this quality, however, 
a weakness that was like St. Paul's thorn in the 
flesh, which by God's grace turned to his advantage. 
"Robertson of Brighton," he says, "was extremely 
sensitive. He was easily jarred. His whole being 
was as full of feeling as the eye. He prayed for 
the removal of the infirmity, and the thorn remained. 
But his prayer was answered. His very weakness 
was made the vehicle of strength. His sensitiveness 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

gave him his sense of awe and triumph in the pres- 
ence of nature. It gave him his almost instinctive 
sense of the characters of men. It gave him his 
superlatively fine apprehension of the secrets of the 
Most High. God gave him a sufficiency of grace, 
and through his apparent infirmity God's power was 
made perfect." Falsehood and hypocrisy, cruelty 
and oppression, the sin of the strong against the 
weak, kindled his wrath, and his flaming indignation 
expressed itself in stirring eloquence. But we 
believe it was Christlike indignation, and that the 
eloquence it inspired was wholesome for men to 
hear. The people of Brighton soon realized it. 

All classes were drawn to Trinity and it was 
crowded to the doors. Henry Crabbe Robinson, Lady 
Byron and other representatives of the literary class 
and of the aristocracy were there, and servants and 
workingmen. Thoughtful and eager-minded men 
came in from all parts of Brighton attracted not only 
by his eloquence but by his original thought, clear 
reasoning, and the affluence of his mind in illustra- 
tions of the truth. "His mind was crowded with 
images which he had received and arranged in a 
harmonious order. With these he lit up the sub- 
jects of his speech, flashing upon obstruse points the 
ray of an illustration, and that with a fullness of 
apt words, and with, at the same time, a reticence 
which kept the point clear. He united in a rare 
combination imaginative with dialectic power. He 
felt a truth before he proved it; but this felt, then 
his logical power came into play. He disentangled 
it from the crowd of images and thoughts that 

263 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

clustered round it. He exercised a serene choice 
over this crowd, and rejected what was supera- 
bundant. There was no confusion in his mind. 
Step by step he led his hearers, till at last he placed 
them on the summit whence they could see all the 
landscape of his subject in harmonious and con- 
nected order. He clothed in fresh brightness the 
truths which, because their garments were worn 
out, men had ignorantly imagined to be exhausted. 
He drew out the living inspiration of the Bible." 

To his bishop he gave the following account of 
his mode of preparing his sermons: "The word 
extempore does not exactly describe the way I preach. 
I first make copious notes; then draw out a form 
(rough plan); afterwards write copiously, some- 
times twice or thrice, the thoughts, to disentangle 
them and arrange them into a connected whole; 
then make a syllabus, and, lastly, a skeleton which 
I take into the pulpit." 

The sermons thus carefully premeditated and 
prepared for delivery are, in the words of an intelli- 
gent judge: "The bloom and wonder of modern 
pulpit eloquence. They are charged so abundantly 
with arrows of lightning to flash home conviction 
on the conscience; they indicate such intense pro- 
phetic earnestness; they contain such fearless 
denunciations of evil, in high places and in low; they 
manifest such sympathy on the part of their author 
with the lowly, the hard working, the suffering and 
the poor; they display such a mastery of the latest 
European thought, so profound an acquaintance 
with both the letter and the spirit of the Scriptures, 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

as of the innermost secrets of the life which is 'hid 
in God,' — its sorrows, its battling with doubts, its 
triumph through clinging to the cross of Christ; 
they disclose a creative ability to turn truisms into 
living truths, or to convert the dry bones of orthodox 
assertions into vital influences for the daily life, such 
a grasp of great spiritual and historical principles, 
such a power to sever the essential from the acci- 
dental in the discussion of questions of Christian 
casuistry, such wisdom and liberality in the treat- 
ment of subjects like that of the Sabbath, that 
Robertson must be pronounced, of all later Christian 
public speakers, facile princeps." 

A wonderful thing about Robertson's sermons, 
as we have remarked of those of some others, is 
that they have not lost their interest and charm 
because preached more than half a century ago. 
They are not stale and juiceless; they are inspiring 
and spiritually profitable still as the sermons of only 
the greatest preachers are, like those of Chrysostom, 
Cardinal Newman, Beecher and Brooks, and they 
form a rich part of our literature. 

His pulpit^ ministrations and his preaching are 
thus described by persons who heard him: "I have 
never heard the liturgy read as Mr. Robertson read 
it. He carried its own spirit with him, and those 
prayers, so often degraded by careless reading into 
mere forms, were, from his voice, felt to be instinct 
with a divine light and spirit. The grave earnest- 
ness and well-weighed emphasis with which he read 
the Gospel of the day were absolutely an exposition 
of its meaning." 

265 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

In preaching, "so entirely was his heart in his 
words that he lost sight of everything but his subject. 
He not only possessed, but was possessed by his 
idea; and when all was over and the reaction came, 
he had forgotten, like a dream, words, illustrations, 
almost everything. But though he was carried 
away by his subject, he was sufficiently lord over his 
own excitement to prevent any loud or unseemly 
demonstration of it. His gesture was subdued. 
His voice, a musical, low, clear, penetrative voice, 
seldom rose; and when it did, it was in a deep 
volume of sound which was not loud, but toned 
like a great bell. It thrilled, but not so much 
from feeling as from the repression of feeling, and 
his face glowed as alabaster glows when lit up by 
an inward fire. And, indeed, brain and heart were 
on fire. He was being self -consumed. Every ser- 
mon in those latter days burnt up a portion of his 
vital power." 

His congregation was often enthralled, as by a 
spell, by his preaching. One of his constant hearers 
says: "I cannot describe in words the strange sensa- 
tion, during his sermon, of union with him and 
communion with one another which filled us as he 
spoke. I used to feel as if every one in the con- 
gregation must be thrilling with my emotion, and 
that his suppressed excitement was partly due to his 
consciousness of our excitement. Nor can I describe 
the sense we had of a higher Presence with us as he 
spoke, the sacred awe which filled our hearts, the 
hushed stillness in which the smallest sound was 
startling, the calmed eagerness of men who listened 

266 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

as if waiting for a word of revelation to resolve the 
doubt or to heal the sorrow of a life, the unexpected 
light which came upon the faces of some when an ex- 
pression struck home and made them feel, in a 
moment of high relief from pain or doubt, 'this man 
speaks to me and his words are inspired by God,' and 
when the close came and silence almost awful fell 
upon the church, even after a sigh of relief from 
strained attention had ceased to come from all the 
congregation, I have often seen men so rapt that 
they could not move till the sound of the organ 
aroused them to the certainty that the preacher had 
ceased to speak." 

Such witchery of speech, with its entrancing 
power, is a mark of the highest pulpit eloquence. 

It is evident from these testimonies and a study of 
his sermons, that Robertson possessed to a remark- 
able degree the personal qualities of intensity of 
feeling, sensitiveness to the power of truth, and a 
receptive soul, responsive not only to truth's appeal 
but to the events and questions of the time. "His 
heart," says his biographer, "throbbed in response 
to the music of the march of the world, always to 
him a martial music. He spoke and thought best 
when great events encompassed him." 

At the same time he was not hurried away by a 
hasty impulse; he was self -restrained and cautious. 
"Before he gave a public opinion on any subject, he 
studied it with care. He did not argue blindly on 
the outside, but sought to attain the central point 
of a question. But having come in this way to his 
opinion, he was bold to avow it. He was loyal to 

267 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

God and his truth, though he might suffer reproach 
and ostracism because of it." 

The conditions under which his ministry was 
exercised were peculiar and need to be considered, if 
we would clearly understand and appreciate this 
man's career and character. 



(a) The External Contemporary Conditions 
of the Times 

1. It was a time of transition in theology. Through 
the influence of German philosophy and Bible 
criticism, translated into English and interpreted 
by Coleridge and Carlyle and the Oxford scholar's, 
the old doctrinal statements and theories were 
being questioned and discredited, and new theories 
and statements sought for and attempted. At 
such times there is usually much disquietude and 
alarm, and the religious world is divided between 
the liberals, who welcome inquiry and encourage 
discussion of the various points at issue in the belief 
that truth will be the gainer, and the conservatives, 
who would stifle inquiry and repress discussion, for 
fear that the truth will be the loser through decay 
of faith consequent upon the shock that is given to 
the popular mind concerning fundamental doctrines 
whose interpretation is changed and credibility 
thus shaken. Robertson, having passed through 
the crisis involved in this transition during the 
latter part of his stay at Cheltenham and the time 
of his visit to the Tyrol and the weeks of sojourn 
spent afterwards in Heidelberg just before going to 

268 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

Brighton, and believing then that his own feet were 
planted on solid ground, which it would be in the 
interest of Christian truth and human happiness to 
disclose, he with characteristic courage straightway 
proclaimed his new views. "Thus," we are told 
"within the short space of six months he put himself 
into opposition with the whole accredited theological 
world of Brighton on the questions of the Sabbath, 
the Atonement, Inspiration and Baptism. He was 
not one who held what are called liberal opinions 
in the study, but would not bring them into the 
pulpit. He would not waver between truth to 
himself and success in the world. He was offered 
advancement in the Church, if he would abate the 
strength of his expressions with regard to the Sab- 
bath. He refused the proffer. Far beyond all other 
perils which beset the Church, was, he thought, this 
peril, that men, who were set apart to speak the 
truth and to live above the world, should substitute 
conventional opinions for eternal truths. He re- 
spected his own conscience, believed in his own 
native force and in the divine fire within him. He 
endeavored to receive, without the intervention of 
commentators, immediate impressions from the 
Bible. To these impressions he added the indi- 
vidual life of his own heart and his knowledge of 
the life of the great world." 

2. It was a time of transition in politics. It was 
the time of the volcanic outburst of February, 1848, 
in Paris, when Lamartine proclaimed a republic in 
France, and the cry of "Liberty," "Equality," and 
"Fraternity" reached across the English Channel, 

269 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

and the demands involved in this outcry were being 
eagerly discussed in England; the time of the Chart- 
ist Movement and Kingsley's "Alton Lock" and 
"Yeast"; the time of Cobden's agitation for the 
abolishment of the oppressive Corn Laws, and the 
establishment of the principle of Free Trade. Rob- 
ertson's spirit shared the hopes of the English com- 
mon people. He rejoiced, we are told, in the 
prospective "downfall of old oppressions," and in 
the "young cries of Freedom" thought he discerned 
the sound of the Chariot of the Son of Man coming 
to vindicate the cause of the poor." 

He was, however, by birth and education an 
aristocrat, like Wendell Phillips, and, therefore, 
conservative in his tastes and feelings; but also, 
like Phillips, he was by conviction and principle a 
democrat, and, notwithstanding his aristocratic 
leanings, advocated with all his powers of eloquence 
the cause of the poor and oppressed, and devoted 
himself to their welfare. By so doing he was de- 
nounced as a revolutionist. He foresaw that this 
would be the case. He says: "It brings no pleasure 
to a minister of Christ. It makes him personal 
enemies. It is ruin to his worldly interests and, 
worse than all to a sensitive heart, it makes coldness 
where there should be cordiality. Yet through life 
I am ready to bear this." He "was not, however, 
swept away into the alluring current of socialism. 
He systematically opposed socialism, on economical 
and Christian grounds, as dangerous to the state 
and destructive to the liberty it professed to confer. 
His aristocratic tastes made it impossible he should 

270 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

be a radical. The result was that, speaking at one 
time like a Liberal, and at another like a Conserva- 
tive he was misunderstood, and reckoned an enemy 
by the extreme spirits of both parties." Conscious 
of this discord in himself, he thought it marred his 
usefulness. We think it caused him much unhappi- 
ness, but made him to a considerable extent the 
reconciler of parties. This belief is justified and 
witnessed to by the inscription on the monument 
erected to his memory in Brighton: "He awakened 
the holiest feelings in poor and rich, in ignorant and 
learned; therefore is he lamented as their guide 
and comforter by many who in the band of brother- 
hood have erected this monument." 

3. It was a time of transition in the style of 'preach- 
ing. He marks a new epoch in the methods of the 
pulpit and in Homiletic literature. It is the epoch 
of textual analysis and interpretation. His sermons 
are worthy of special study because of the superior 
method of construction used in them. He may be 
said to have revived the old Scotch manner of preach- 
ing; he introduced into England and carried to a 
great degree of excellence, the textual and expository 
methods used by Maclaren and carried by him 
almost to perfection. We cannot help thinking 
that Maclaren was a careful student of Robertson's 
sermons, and adopted them as the models upon 
which he fashioned his own pulpit work. Robert- 
son's preaching was textual preaching of the best 
sort. In it he adhered closely to the historic sense 
of the sacred writers; aimed to know precisely, and 
to convey to his hearers, their point of view and their 

271 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

intention; and to set forth the full significance of 
their teaching. 

Never was there a preacher who conveyed to his 
hearers a better or truer idea of the wealth of mean- 
ing contained in the Scriptures. He had what a 
German theologian calls "exegetical divination' ' 
and what Dr. Brastow thinks may more approp- 
riately be called "homiletic divination," a power of 
insight into the ethical and spiritual suggestions of 
the Scriptures. This natural power of spiritual 
insight was aided and strengthened by his careful, 
accurate scholarship, and the rich stores of informa- 
tion garnered in his general reading. Everything 
in him, his imagination, his vigorous reasoning 
faculties, his opulant scholarship, his vivid appre- 
hension of Christ, his personal experience of Christian 
truth, which vitalized his whole being, contributed 
to the Biblical suggestiveness of his sermons. 

(b) Personal Conditions 

1. Broken health. He performed his remarkable 
work in Brighton handicapped by poor health. 
His health was incurably shattered by his hard work 
at Cheltenham, by his neglect of needed exercise, 
and by the mental and spiritual distress caused by 
his loss of faith in, and his breaking away from, the 
traditional school of theology. He thus speaks of 
himself just before entering on his work at Brighton: 
"I have been very unwell, thoroughly done up, 
mentally and bodily." Though he could say that, 
by reason of the mountain air and hard exercise 

272 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

found in the^Tyrol, he had "got back something 
like calmness and health again," he never really 
recovered. He remained to the end of his days, 
through all those six years in Brighton, a sorely 
shattered man. He had been there scarcely six 
months when he wrote to a friend: "In outward suc- 
cess all looks well; consequently I work in good 
spirits. But Sunday night, Monday, and all Tues- 
day are days of wretched exhaustion, actual nervous 
pain." "The excitement is killing. I begin to fear 
I shall never keep it up." "Brighton air is wonderful, 
but even that fails." In vain he tried to allay and 
subdue this killing excitability by giving more 
attention to exercise, and by placing himself under 
the healing influence of Nature, by walking along 
the edge of the cliffs by the sea and sitting down 
where he could command a full view of sea and sky, 
to soothe and cure the fever of his heart. He could 
not get rid of it. It grew worse and worse. The 
reaction from preaching left him sleepless, despond- 
ent, wretched. 

2. A Chronic Morbid Condition of Mind. The 
wonder is that his mind was not paralyzed or other- 
wise made incapable of work by his excitability. 
But it seemed to give him a preternatural power of 
thought and mental achievement. Some of his 
finest sermons were thought out when distress, it 
might be supposed, "only gave him leave to feel." 
He could concentrate his mind, however, upon his 
work in the wildest hours of nervous excitement, 
and the pain which racked his body and sensitive 
soul like a spur to his genius made him most crea- 

18 273 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

tive. In these states of excitement he was most 
brilliant and his most startling eloquence was pro- 
duced. 

He might, perhaps, have recovered, had he been 
willing to favor himself; had he demanded, when he 
found himself breaking down, a long release from 
his work; or if, while continuing in the harness, he 
had worked with moderation. But his vacations 
were short, either from imagined necessity, or choice. 
He never took more than a few weeks, when, as he 
himself confessed, he was not fit for ministerial work 
and needed a protracted release from it. "I want 
years and years to calm me," he said, "My heart is 
too feverish — quivers and throbs as flesh recently 
cut by the surgeon's knife." 

In this invalid state of shattered nerves, tortured 
body, and mental feverishness, he ought to have 
avoided every unnecessary draft upon his energies, 
and resolutely declined those extra burdens which 
regard for thoughtless friendship or the desire to do 
good prompted him to undertake. Had his friends 
and admirers understood his case, how much he 
needed rest, and how fatal every added task would 
prove, they would never have wished him to per- 
form for them those acts of service which ultimately 
cost him and them so dear. But they did not 
understand, and he would not tell them, and so in 
the very time he was suffering from those dreadful 
reactions from preaching, he performed tasks that 
were destroying his chance to live and hurrying 
him to his grave. He wrote long letters to explain 
to inquirers the religious subjects he had discussed, 

274 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

but had not made quite clear in his sermons; he 
prepared literary lectures for the instruction or 
financial profit of the Working Men's Institute; he 
served on committees charged with framing the 
policy of the Institute, and he was their adviser 
when critical questions arose for their consideration. 
He projected courses of expository lectures upon 
different books of the Scriptures, which required 
much special study in preparation, gave extra time 
and labor in preparing a special Training Class of 
the Church for Confirmation and Church Member- 
ship ; and, strangest of all, on Sunday evening, when 
spent and weary with the day's preaching, he wrote 
out for a friend from memory the sermons of Sunday 
morning. "It was peculiarly irksome to him," his 
biographer says, "but he did it freely and gladly 
because impelled by friendship. He forgot the 
toil, but the toil did not forget to produce its fruit 
of exhaustion." 

The world has profited by that sacrifice of friend- 
ship. Those sermons thus reported, are most of 
them published as he wrote them, in the volumes 
that were given to the world after his death, and 
which created for him the world-wide fame as a 
preacher he had not till then attained; but the pos- 
session of this treasure, secured at such cost, is 
associated in us with a feeling of pain at the thought 
of the cruelty involved in lashing that jaded over- 
worked spirit to the task. Not even our gratitude, 
nor the fame which thus accrued to him, can make 
that sacrifice seem right or an adequate compensa- 
tion for the misery it cost him. 

275 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

There is another thing he ought to have done. He 
should have lived more in the society of friends and 
his fellow men, instead of secluding himself from 
them. But he yielded to the isolating influences 
which one feels who is greatly misunderstood, mis- 
represented, disapproved of, and censured for deviat- 
ing from the beaten track of opinion, and for advo- 
cating opinions that are new and supposed to be 
dangerous. His sensitive soul smarted under the 
harsh judgments pronounced against him as a 
teacher of error and a friend of socialists, and he 
withdrew more and more from society. This made 
him suspicious and lonely and a sufferer of the ills 
that visit a life of solitude. Instead of the strength 
and inspiration of Christian fellowship, he experi- 
enced the weakness and the depression of mind 
consequent upon the feeling of being deserted. The 
wonder is that this morbid conditon did not more 
infect his sermons with gloom. In them there is 
not much trace of it; his genuine piety preserved 
them from it, but in his letters it breathes a sadness 
and gloom which are painful. It is no wonder that 
his body and mind could not endure long the oppres- 
sion of it; that he died prematurely in the middle 
of his thirty-eighth year, his death being preceded 
by symptoms of distress and breakdown most 
pathetic. "Somehow," he says in the last year of 
his life, "I cannot originate thoughts and subjects 
now, as I used." "I shall not be able to go on much 
longer if this continues; whole tracts of brain seem 
to be losing their faculty and becoming quite torpid 
and impotent; memory and grasp are both going, 

276 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

and with an incessant call for fresh thought, this 
feeling is a more than ordinarily painful one." These 
and other tokens of mental failure that might be 
gathered from his letters remind us of Luther's 
remark concerning his mind when it had begun 
through the long wear of theological conflict and 
ceaseless toil to lose its power: "It is like an old 
knife, the steel edge of which has been all worn 
away from much and constant whetting." 

More pathetic even than these signs of creeping 
mental paralysis was his discouragement and depres- 
sion of heart under the impression that his ministry 
was a failure. For this he himself was partly, if not 
entirely, to blame, on account of his manifested 
repugnance to hearing, or receiving any commenda- 
tion of his preaching, through which he might have 
learned how much it helped and benefited bis 
hearers. "If," says his biographer, "he hated one 
thing more than another it was the reputation of 
being a popular preacher." So he coldly repelled 
the grateful thanks of his hearers for the benefit 
they had received, as if they were empty compli- 
ments, fulsome flattery, which, as imputing to 
him a childish vanity, no self-respecting preacher 
can bear to listen to. Such applause galled and 
stung him into galling words, and few cared to 
provoke such an answer a second time. Thus 
repelling and hushing the voices of praise with which 
his friends and hearers longed to express their gratifi- 
cation and gratitude for his sermons, he was wil- 
fully blind to the unmistakable good they had 
wrought. We wish that the sadness which oppressed 

277 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

his heart could have been brightened by some pro- 
phetic foresight of the marvelous appreciation and 
world-wide enthusiasm those sermons were to pro- 
duce when published after his death and the world 
enjoyed the benefit of his ministry. Dr. Brastow 
truly says: "He did not know how well he wrought. 
He did not know the full import, reach, or measure 
of his prophetic utterance. Hs did not know how 
deeply he spoke into the lives of men. Never was 
man more unconscious of what he was doing for 
others, for the Church, for the world. It was in 
much a sad history, but most precious for the multi- 
tudes of needy men whom he has helped. More 
fully than any other English preacher of his century 
has he spoken the true prophetic word for hungry 
and disquieted human hearts." (Brastow's "Modern 
Representative preachers.") 

It ought further to be said that like all preachers 
who "have spoken the true prophetic word," Robert- 
son was more than an eloquent preacher. He was 
a seer; he possessed the spiritual insight and the 
religious feeling which qualified him to be a pioneer 
in a new advanced age of theological teaching. Like 
Horace Bushnell and the two Beechers, besides the 
admirable sermons he and they gave to us, he is to 
be credited with the wholesome "modernism" that 
has characterized the Protestantism of this age as 
well as the Roman Catholicism, and which signifies 
the change in the religious ideas and spiritual appre- 
hension of Christianity and its interpretation due 
to the fresh and more scholarly study of the Scrip- 
tures and the new light shed upon them by the 

278 



FREDERICK W. ROBERTSON 

development of modern science and the new psy- 
chology of today. The Christianity of our times is 
more practical than speculative; it emphasizes the 
ethical side of the religious life, and the importance 
of the ethical precepts of the New Testament, and 
of the example and spirit of Christ as matters of 
far more concern to Christians than the definitions 
and dogmas of theology which in times past have so 
much exercised the mind and interest of the Church. 
This shifting of emphasis, unmistakable in the 
thought of these times, and wholesome as most 
men think, is largely due to Robertson and other 
preachers of "the true prophetic word." As the 
Old Testament prophets, Isaiah, Amos, Hosea and 
others, saved ancient Judaism from the growing 
narrowness and false interpretations of the Scribes 
and Pharisees which were tending to falsify it as 
the truth of God, so Robertson and his successors 
in the same line have saved Christianity from errors 
of doctrine and practice that were tending to stifle 
its spiritual life and discredit it in the eyes of the 
world. 



279 



VIII 
ALEXANDER McLAREN 



VIII 

ALEXANDER McLAREN 

1826-1901 

Dr. McLaren is one of the greatest and most 
interesting preachers of the last century. The re- 
cent biography by his sister-in-law, published by 
Hodder and Stoughton, gives us an interesting and 
seemingly just account of his life and personal char- 
acter, which is both trustworthy and complete. "In 
this book," the author says in the preface, "Dr. 
McLaren's name is spelt as he signed it, not Maclaren 
as in his published works." 

From the materials furnished by this biography 
we derive the particulars in regard to the subject 
of our sketch. He was born in Glasgow, Febru- 
ary 11, 1826. He was the son of David and Mary 
McLaren, and the youngest child in their family 
of six. His parents were Christian people of the 
Puritan type. His father, David McLaren, was a 
business man but "eagerly devoted his leisure hours 
to Christian work" — especially to preaching the 
gospel. "He had many business anxieties," his 
son says, "but his children remember to have heard 
him say that when he began his preparation for 
Sabbath on the Saturday afternoon, all his troubles 
passed from his mind, and left him undisturbed 
till Monday morning, when the fight was renewed." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

"His ministry," his son adds, "was marked by much 
intellectual vigor and clearness. It was richly script- 
ural, expository, and withal, earnestly evangelistic. 
Its key-note was: 'That which we have seen with 
our eyes — and our hands have handled of the 
word of life — we declare unto you.' His children 
set on his tombstone the two words 'steadfast, 
unmoveable. ' " 

The father, like his son, was a Baptist, and Alex- 
ander inherited from him, besides this denomina- 
tional bias, mental and spiritual traits. 

The mother, Mary Wingate, was a person, " whose 
patient fortitude, calm wisdom and changeless love 
were her husband's treasure for many years of 
mingled sunshine and storm," and left a memory 
"fragrant to her children." 

Alexander went through the course of the High 
school of Glasgow, and entered its University in 
his fifteenth year, but he continued there only a 
year because of the removal of his family to London. 
In that one year, however, he distinguished him- 
self by his superior scholarship, so that at its close 
he received several prizes. "He remembered all 
his life," we are told, "that prize giving. He was 
seated far back, and the first time his name was 
called he had to be waited for, so the Master re- 
marked to the Lord Provost who presided, 'This 
young gentleman has to appear so often that he 
had better be accommodated with a seat nearer the 
table."' 

Cambridge and Oxford in those days were not 
open to Non-conformists, so after examination, he 

284 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

entered, in 1842, the Baptist College at Stepney, 
now transplanted to Regent Park, London. The 
committee before whom he appeared were struck 
with his boyish appearance and also with the ex- 
cellence of his examination papers. 

The principal of Stepney College at that time 
was Dr. Benjamin Davis. To him Alexander 
McLaren "owed his lifelong habit of patient, minute 
study of the original, not only in the preparation of 
sermons, but in his daily reading of Scriptures for 
his own spiritual life." 

It is proper that here we should speak of the 
conscious beginning and development of his relig- 
ious life. Of course, being the child of such Chris- 
tian parents, he was the subject of early religious 
impressions, but these did not crystallize into defi- 
nite shape until, in those years of his boyhood, he 
joined a Bible class taught by the Rev. David 
Russell, a Congregational minister and afterward 
his brother-in-law. In connection with this Bible 
class Mr. Russell held some revival meetings which 
he attended with the result that, "to him, under 
God," Dr. McLaren said in his old age, "I owe the 
quickening of early religious impressions into loving 
faith and surrender, and to him I owe also much 
wise and affectionate counsel in my boyish years." 
He joined the Hope St. Baptist Church, Glasgow, 
when fourteen years of age, and when, two or three 
years later, he entered the Baptist College at Stepney 
with its theological course of study, it was with 
the purpose of preparing himself for the ministry. 
Shortly before his death, he said: "I cannot recall 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

ever having had any hesitation as to being a minister; 
it seems to me it must have been simply taken for 
granted by my father and mother and myself; it 
just had to be." 

Before he had completed his twentieth year, he 
was sent by the authorities of Stepney College 
to preach one Sunday, November 16, 1845, at 
Portland Chapel, Southampton. His preaching 
gave such satisfaction that he was invited to 
preach there three months. The trial resulted in 
a call by the church to be its pastor. The place 
was not very inviting — the congregation was small 
and the salary meagre, and the chapel had a 
past history that was clouded with failure. But 
he accepted the call notwithstanding, saying: "If 
the worse comes to the worst, I shall at all 
events not have to reflect that I have killed a 
flourishing plant, but only assisted at the funeral 
of a withered one." He began his pastorate there, 
June 28, 1846, when he was but little more than 
twenty years of age, and he remained in it twelve 
years. For ten of those years he remained single, 
working strenuously to build up his "poor little 
congregation," which gradually but steadily grew 
in numbers and influence. Later in life, when he 
had become a famous preacher he said that he was 
"thankful that the early part of his ministry had 
been spent with such a church in a quiet corner 
of England where he had leisure to grow and time 
to think." "The trouble with most of you young 
fellows," he said to a company of young ministers, 
"is that you are pitchforked at once into prominent 

286 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

positions and have to spend your time in attending 
meetings, anniversaries, and even breakfasts, when 
you ought to be at home studying your Bible." 

His conception of the Christian ministry was that 
it was preeminently a ministry of Christian truth, 
and he applied himself diligently to the study of 
the Christian Scriptures. He studied them not 
only as presented in the best English versions, but 
in the original Hebrew and Greek. This was evi- 
dent from his manner of reading the Scriptures 
in public worship, from the emphasis given to the 
significant words, from the clear insight into their 
real meaning revealed and the sympathetic inter- 
pretation he gave of it because of his previous care- 
ful study. " Every day," we are told, "he read 
a chapter in the Hebrew Old Testament and one 
in the Greek New Testament." He was a careful 
exigete of the Bible and on his careful exegesis 
he based his illuminating expositions of its truth. 
"The best lesson," says Dr. Parkhurst, "which 
McLaren teaches the preachers of today is the neces- 
sity of direct and absorbing work upon the Bible, 
in order to be able to speak with interest and power; 
and that the Bible only needs hard, faithful study 
to yield that which will be most fresh, vivid and 
interesting and helpful to our congregations." 

Those years of his young manhood with that 
small Southampton church were formative years, 
years determinative of his destiny, as the first years 
of a man's ministry usually are. In them his habits 
of study and his methods of work were formed and 
perfected; in them his conceptions and ideals of 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

ministerial achievement were shaped and tested, 
and in them his powers of thought and communi- 
cation were developed to a very high degree of 
excellence. He always endeavored to do his best. 
He lavished upon that small congregation of humble 
people the best efforts of a rarely gifted mind and 
earnest soul. His development and progress were 
therefore constant, rapid, remarkable. The people 
of that early Southampton congregation watched 
his growth with interest, and keenly enjoyed the 
benefit of it. Appreciating his worth, they fore- 
cast the eminence that awaited him in the ministry, 
and when he had reached the meridian of his power 
and fame thought his preaching did not surpass 
that of the days when he was their minister. His 
preaching then, like Beecher's early preaching in 
Indianapolis, had notes of eloquence that distin- 
guished it in the glorious maturity of his later 
years. 

From the beginning, his constant aim, persever- 
ingly adhered to and strenuously labored for, was 
to perfect himself in the preacher's art, so as to 
make himself a successful preacher of the gospel. 

In his ministry, he magnified the preacher's 
office and in his practice exalted it above the pastoral 
office and its duties. Not that he underrated and 
disparaged pastoral work; he commended and 
honored it, indeed, in those who were specially 
fitted for it; but he believed, that for himself preach- 
ing was his special vocation and he endeavored 
to fulfill it to the utmost of his ability. 

In the fulfillment of it he adopted the following 

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ALEXANDER McLAREN 

method and principles of action, in preparation 
for the pulpit: 

"I began my ministry," he says, "with the reso- 
lution that I would not write my sermons, but 
would think and feel them, and I have stuck to it 
ever since. It costs quite as much time in prepa- 
ration as writing, and a far greater expenditure 
of nervous energy in delivery, but I am sure that 
it is best for me, and equally sure that everybody 
has to find out his own way." He "so saturated his 
mind with his subject that facing his congregation, 
looking into their eyes, his thoughts clothed them- 
selves in suitable words." 

But, as he further explains, though he resolved 
not to write his sermons, he did not entirely dis- 
card the help of the pen. "I write my sermons 
in part," he says. "The amount of written matter 
varies. When I can, I like to write a couple of 
sentences or so of introduction, in order to get a 
fair start, and for the rest I content myself with 
jottings, fragmentary hints of a word or two each, 
interspersed here and there with a fully written 
sentence. Illustrations and metaphors I never 
write; a word suffices for them. If I have heads, I 
word these carefully and I like to write the closing 
sentences. I do not adhere to what is written, 
as there is very little of it that is sufficiently con- 
secutive. I make no attempt to reproduce more 
than the general course of thought and constantly 
find that the best bits of my sermon make them- 
selves in preaching. I do adhere to my introductory 
sentences, which serve to shove me off into deep 

19 289 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

water; beyond that I let the moment shape the thing. 
Expressions I do not prepare; if I can get the fire 
alight, that is what I care for most." "This is 
my ideal," he says of the method thus sketched. 
"A sufficiently scrappy one you will think, but I 
am frequently obliged to preach with much less 
preparation. The amount written varies from about 
six or seven pages of ordinary note-paper to the 
barest skeleton that would go in half a page." 

If we had only this sketch to judge by, we might 
fairly think him a careless workman. It seems to 
indicate that he left much to chance and the hope 
of a happy inspiration at the time of preaching, 
instead of guarding by the most careful preparation 
against the possibility of failure. But we should 
make a great mistake if we should form such an 
opinion of him or of his work. His seeming care- 
lessness is that of conscious mastery of the condi- 
tions of success. As a matter of fact, he left little 
to chance; his preparation for preaching was so 
thorough and painstaking that there was only the 
smallest possibility of failure. Though he did not 
write out his sermons, though his preparation seemed 
limited to the making of a meagre outline, his pre- 
vision of their contents was usually clear and cer- 
tain. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, 
though the precise language in which he was to 
express his thought was not previously settled upon 
and fixed in writing. He secured this unerring 
certainty of thought and expression by the unwearied 
patience and unstinted labor given to the previous 
study and meditation of his themes. He thus ac- 

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ALEXANDER McLAREN 

quired an opulent mind, which never lacked good 
things to say, nor words, the right words, to express 
them. 

In his preparation for the pulpit he observed 
the following principles, which are gathered from 
the interesting and instructive address, entitled 
"An Old Preacher on Preaching" delivered in 1901 
at the City Temple in London at a joint meeting 
of the Baptist and Congregational Unions. The 
principles enumerated shaped his preaching through 
all his ministry. 

(1) Deference to the teaching of God's word and 
submission of mind to it as containing the truth which 
the Christian minister is summoned to proclaim. 
"This teaching of God is found in the Bible," and 
makes its study supremely important. " A preacher," 
he says, "who has steeped himself in the Bible 
will have a clearness of out-look which will illu- 
minate many dark things, and a firmness of touch 
which will breed confidence in him among his hearers. 
He will have the secret of perpetual freshness, for 
he cannot exhaust the Bible." "Our sufficiency is 
of God, and God's sufficiency will be ours in the 
measure in which we steadfastly follow out the pur- 
pose of making our preaching truly Biblical." 

At his Ministerial Jubilee he said of his own en- 
deavor: "I have tried to make my ministry a Minis- 
try of Exposition of Scripture. I know that it has 
failed in many respects, but I will say that I have 
endeavored from the beginning to the end to make 
that the characteristic of all my public work. I 
have tried to preach Jesus Christ, and the Jesus 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Christ not of the Gospels only, but the Christ of 
the Gospels and Epistles; He is the same Christ." 

(2) Every preacher by independent study of the 
Bible should ascertain for himself the truth of God 
to be found in it. Dr. McLaren condemns those 
who "get their opinions" of Christian truth from 
others instead of forming them for themselves. 
"These opinions do not grow, are not shaped by 
patient labor, but are imported into the new owner's 
mind, ready-made in Germany or elsewhere, but 
not in his own workshop." "We have need to 
remember," he says, "the woes pronounced on two 
classes of prophets; 'those who stole the word, 
every man from his neighbor, and those who proph- 
esied out of their own hearts, having seen nothing 
and heard no voice from on high.' We have to 
be sure that we stand on our own feet and see with 
our own eyes; and on the other hand we have to 
see that the Word, which is in that sense our own, 
is in a deeper sense not our own but God's. We 
have to deal at first hand with Him and to suppress 
self that He may speak." 

(3) The habit of brooding over a text or passage of 
Scripture in a devout spirit to ascertain its teaching is 
illuminating and profitable. "This is sometimes 
called the 'incubation of a text' and often results 
in rich and surprising disclosures of meaning. As 
one reads or listens, he says, 'Yes, that was all in 
the text. Why had no one discovered it before?' 
We need for the prophet's office much secluded fel- 
lowship with God, who 'wakens' his servant's ear 
morning by morning and gives him ' the tongue of 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

them that are taught.' No man will ever be the 
Lord's prophet, however eloquent or learned he may 
be, unless he knows what it is to sit silent before 
God and in the silence to hear the still, small, most 
mighty voice that penetrates the soul, and to the 
hearing ear is sweet as harpers harping with their 
harps and louder than the noise of many waters." 

His power of productive thinking became at 
length spontaneous. The subject definitely fixed 
upon, whether of sermon or address, "it goes simmer- 
ing through my head wherever I am." 

At the request of his friend, Prof. T. H. Pattison, 
Professor of Homiletics in the Rochester Theo- 
logical Seminary, he wrote to the students there 
this word of counsel: "I sometimes think that 
a verse in one of the Psalms carries the whole pith 
of homiletics — 'While I was musing the fire burned, 
then spake I with my tongue.' Patient medita- 
tion, resulting in kindled emotion and the flashing 
up of truth into warmth and light ('I must give 
it red-hot,' he said) and then, and not till then, 
the rush of speech 'moved by the Holy Ghost' — 
these are the processes which will make sermons 
live things with hands and feet, as Luther's words 
were said to be. May I add another text, which 
contains as complete a description of the contents 
as the psalm does of its genesis? 'Whom we preach' 
there is the evangelistic element, which is founda- 
tion of all, and is proclamation with the loud voice, 
the curt force, the plain speech of a herald; and there 
is, too, the theme, namely, the Person, not a set of 
doctrines, but a Person whom we can know only 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

by doctrines, and whom, if we know, we shall surely 
have some doctrine concerning. * Warning every 
man' — there is the ethical side of preaching; and 
'teaching every man' — there is the educational 
aspect of the Christian ministry. These three 
must never be separated, and he is the best minister 
of Jesus Christ, who keeps the proportion of them 
most clearly in mind and braids all the strands 
together in his ministry into a 'three-fold cord, not 
quickly broken.' " 

(4) The minister needs to bring the truth thus found 
to the test of his own experience. This was not only 
a fine theory with him, it was confirmed and acted 
upon continually by him in his practice. His 
preaching was that of a spiritually-minded witness 
to the truth he proclaimed. " I have always found, " 
he says, "that my own comfort and efficiency in 
preaching have been in direct proportion to the 
frequency and depth of my daily communion with 
God. 'I have tried to preach Christ' as if I be- 
lieved in him. The root of all is that we ourselves 
should feed on the truth we preach to others. The 
preacher has need of the personal element in his 
message; he has to speak as one who has felt the 
rapture of the joyful news which he proclaims." 

This principle, we have repeatedly said, is essential 
to the preacher's greatest success. It cannot be 
too often or too strongly insisted upon. "Some 
preachers fail in the pulpit," says a thoughtful and 
sagacious observer, "because the truths uttered 
are not first vitalized in the seed-plot of a living 
experience. Such preachers are dry and unim- 

294 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

pressive. What they have to teach is truth per- 
haps, but truth second-hand, with no stamp of 
individuality, or certification of its genuineness 
derived from the preacher's own verification of it. 
On the other hand, the simplest truth drawn fresh 
from the well-head of a living experience carries 
with it an unmistakable stamp of personal attesta- 
tion and genuineness. It has a strange power of 
attraction and impression. Even the most cap- 
tious cease to cavil when they hear it, silenced and 
awed by the demonstration of the spirit thus given 
it. 

A sermon from a preacher of this sort is what 
Alexander Knox says every sermon should be, 
"a cordial communication of vitalized truth." The 
sermons of McLaren were of this kind. We have 
the proof of it in his conception of the work of the 
ministry and the qualifications he demanded of the 
preacher. Besides declaring, as just quoted, that 
"the preacher has need of the personal element 
in his message," he says, "The preacher is spoken 
of in the New Testament as a 'herald'; this title 
implies that his proclamation be plain, clear, assured. 
He is not to speak timidly, as if diverse winds of 
doctrine had blown back his voice into his trumpet. 
He needs to deliver his good news with urgency, 
as if it was of some moment that people should 
know and accept it. Is that note of urgency audi- 
ble, as it should be, in our preaching? 

"The evangelist has also need of tenderness. 'We 
entreat as though God did beseech by us.' What 
outgush of sympathetic yearning can be too great 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

fitly to bear on its current the message of a love 
which died to save? Are we not too little accus- 
tomed to preach with our hearts?" 

(5) He took scrupulous care in his preaching to 
convey to his hearers the exact truth of God which he 
had learned. "The preacher is not to bring an 
ambiguous message in cloudy words," is one of 
his pithy sayings. He therefore aimed to be just 
to the sense of his text. Dr. John Brown says 
that in his earlier ministry Dr. McLaren's fastidi- 
ousness in the choice of words led him sometimes, 
when preaching, to pause until he found fitting 
expression for his thought, refusing to accept any 
but the best language in which to clothe his ideas. 
Practice after a while gave him readiness and skill 
in the use of that choice, flexible, clear English 
style, which distinguishes to a remarkable degree 
his published sermons, none of which he permitted 
to be published until he had reached his full maturity. 

(6) He bestowed much labor and pains upon the 
plans of his sermons. The basis of his sermon plan 
is usually a careful textual analysis with a large 
element of exposition. His introductions are gen- 
erally models of careful, skillful exposition. His 
topics and divisions are solidly based upon the re- 
sults of his analysis and careful exegesis. In his 
handling of the text, "you may be sure that the 
meaning he gives is, so far as he can find it, honestly 
derived from the Scripture passage used and not 
unfairly forced upon it." There is often great 
felicity in his interpretation and statements of 
the teaching of his texts. Examples: sermons 1, 

296 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

19, 21 of the first series of "Sermons preached in 
Manchester." 

The partitioning of his discourse on the lines made 
by his textual analysis is the work of a master- 
workman. It is at once evident that we have no 
careless bungler here. On this account when he 
had attained the maturity of his powers and per- 
fection of his skill, because of the value of his work 
as affording the best models of homiletic skill and 
achievement, McLaren was called" the Preachers' 
Preacher," i. e., a preacher such as they especially 
appreciate, and whom they find it profitable to study 
for the superiority of his method and the inspiring 
excellence of his work. 

Preparing himself for his pulpit by this method 
and in accordance with these working principles 
he became, even while in Southampton, a marked 
man in the Baptist religious body; so that when 
the important church in the Union Chapel, Man- 
chester, was left without a pastor, in 1858, he was 
called to its service, and ministered to it until 1903, 
a period of forty-five years. Entering upon his pas- 
torate there at the age of thirty-two and continu- 
ing in it to the age of seventy-seven, his long 
ministry to that church and congregation had, of 
course, its different stages: its stage of early increas- 
ing splendor, of meridian glory, and of slowly waning 
brightness like that of the late afternoon; but from 
first to last it was a great and most successful min- 
istry. "Perhaps no preacher," said Sir William 
Robertson Nicoll concerning him when near the end 
of it, "has ever ploughed so straight and sharp 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

a furrow across the field of life, never looking aside, 
never turning back, maintaining his power and his 
freshness through all the long years that stretch 
between his early beginning and the present day." 
Other testimonies as to his greatness as a sermon- 
maker and preacher might be quoted by the score. 
At his Ministerial Jubilee it was the general opin- 
ion expressed by the letters received and the ad- 
dresses heard, that Dr. McLaren had "enriched 
the pulpit literature of our times with treasures 
which the Christian Church will not willingly let 
perish." 

Especially striking and specific is the testimony 
of an eminent American preacher, Dr. Parkhurst 
of New York. He says: "Roaming about a theo- 
logical library, a volume of 'Sermons preached in 
Manchester' caught my eye. We opened by chance 
and began to read. The sermon was upon Heb. 
12: 1. (19th sermon, first series of the "Sermons 
in Manchester"). Surely it was a find to us! It 
brought just the message which we had long needed 
and been unconsciously seeking. That sermon 
wrought a revolution in our apprehension of Christi- 
anity, and in our preaching. When we planned 
to cross the Atlantic, we said, 'We will see and hear 
McLaren,' and we did it, going two hundred miles 
for the purpose. 'The Union Chapel' was a brick 
building seating fifteen hundred people. Two thous- 
and were packed into it that day, the people crowd- 
ing in chairs close up to and back of the pulpit. 
The preacher then was in his sixty -first year. In 
personal appearance he was thin, tall, spare, with an 

298 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

attractive face. When young he must have been 
a handsome man. He did not look clerical. He 
wore no pulpit gown, not even the ministerial white 
cravat. In preaching he had no manuscript or 
notes before him. In the introduction he clearly 
announced his subject, and told his hearers how, 
i. e., in what order, he proposed to present it. Soon 
his subject possesses him and he takes fire. His 
thought transforms him. His voice becomes reso- 
nant, tender, impressive. It seems as if God was 
speaking to you. Every person in the house is 
held in solemn and impressive awe of the truth. 
'That is preaching,' I said, 'and we have not 
heard the like in Europe.' " 

Further evidence of his greatness is found in his 
skill jut application of the gospel to men. He wrought 
out for himself, and for the use of the ministry, 
in his published sermons, the best explication we 
know of the plan of salvation disclosed in the New 
Testament. "It is here," says Dr. John Brown, 
"that Dr. McLaren's distinctive excellence as a 
preacher shows itself. Through a long public life 
he has been a continuous, profound, accurate and 
prayerful student of God's revelation, and at the 
same time a close observer of the actual facts of 
religious experience as found in the living men and 
women of the church of God. In this way he has 
attained to something like a clear and coherent 
science of that spiritual life which is derived from 
Christ and maintained by the spirit of God; and 
as we might expect from the character of the man 
this science underlies all his teaching." (See "Puri- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

tan Preachers and Preaching," Yale Lectures by 
John Brown D.D.) 

Examples of Dr. McLaren's doctrinal teaching 
are found in sermons 8, 9, 10, 11 and 20 of the third 
series of "Sermons preached in Manchester." In 
these sermons, and others, we are shown how "the law 
of the spirit of life in Jesus Christ sets us free from 
the law of sin and death"; and how "the word of 
Gods' grace is able to build men up and to give 
them an inheritance amongst all them that are 
sanctified." For a clear and succinct statement 
of this "Science of Spiritual Life," as formulated 
by Dr. McLaren, we refer to Dr. Brown's instruc- 
tive study of him. Though possibly called "ob- 
solete theology" by some, it is, to many others, 
nevertheless as vital and enduring as the teaching 
of the New Testament and of human experience. 

What were the personal qualities which have 
made Dr. McLaren so great a preacher? We find 
the following spoken of or clearly indicated by his 
published sermons: 

(1) An impressive personal presence and delivery 
in the pulpit. "He has a face," says Professor 
Pattison, "which, in its profile, at times suggests 
that of Dante; eyes of wonderful luster and depth; 
a tall lithe figure; appropriate and effective gesture; 
and a varied voice, which, while retaining enough 
of the Scottish accent to make it pathetic, is more 
remarkable for its power to give a sharp and crisp 
accentuation to certain words." 

An Australian journalist, describing his preaching, 
when Dr. McLaren visited that continent, says: 

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ALEXANDER McLAREN 

"A wondrously pathetic little bit in the sermon 
about Abraham and Isaac going up Moriah will 
not soon be forgotten. Here the voice changed, 
softened and seemed to linger over the words: 
'Where is the lamb?' While the answer, 'My son, 
God will provide himself a lamb,' was like the wail 
of a breaking heart." 

Such power of managing the voice, so as to give 
to striking situations and utterances a deep, lasting 
impression and a haunting lodgment in the memory, 
is rare in public speakers and of great value. 

(2) Sanity of mind. By reason of this, his views 
of Christian truth and its application to human 
needs and diverse situations were always marked 
by justness and sobriety. The truth has received 
no distortion, or refraction, or false coloring, in its 
passage through his mind because of any morbid 
tendency or eccentricity. His estimates and state- 
ments are fair and trustworthy, and his hearers 
are inspired with confidence in him because of his 
obvious candor and justness. They do not think 
it necessary to discount and modify what he says, 
to obtain the real truth. 

(3) Penetration, whereby he discerned the hidden 
treasures of truth and its manifold implications. His 
natural power of penetration was doubtless increased 
and quickened by his constant study of the Bible, 
and his much thinking upon its truth. "The en- 
trance of God's word giveth light," and "in His 
light we see light." 

(4) Keen religious sensibility. This gave warmth 
and intensity to his religious feelings and his utter- 

301 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

ances of Christian truth, caused him to kindle easily 
in the presence of a congregation for whom he had, 
as he thought, an important divine message, and 
made his sermons aflame with energy and persuasive 
appeal. This sensibility to truth and eagerness 
to impart it to men and persuade them to heed 
it, is the orator's distinctive gift, and Professor 
Pattison says of McLaren: "He has what is rare 
in the preacher, the scholar's mind coupled with 
the orator's heart." It is a quality, however, that 
distinguishes all great preachers. 

(5) Another quality, which he possessed in com- 
mon with other great and popular preachers, was 
a lively and fruitful imagination, with which to il- 
lustrate and glorify the Christian truth he presented. 
"In freshness and fertility of illustration," says 
Professor Pattison, "he is unexcelled by any con- 
temporaneous preacher." We find ample proof 
of this in his published sermons. Metaphors and 
similes of a striking and beautiful kind abound 
in them. You can scarcely find a sermon, in which 
there is not found, pictured in full, or suggested, 
some impressive image that adorns and makes 
memorable the truth set forth. Read over the 
8th, 9th, 20th, and 21st sermons of the first series 
of the "Sermons Preached in Manchester"; or 
the 1st, 2d, and 20th of the third series, for ex- 
amples. Note the variety and the originality of 
his illustrations and the different fields from which 
he derives them. He makes nature, art, history, 
and the scenes of man's common toil, all tributary 
to his purpose to explain and exalt the truth. We 

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ALEXANDER McLAREN 

here give a few specimens: "You and I write our 
lives as if on one of those 'manifold' writers which 
you use. A thin filmy sheet here, a bit of black 
paper below it; but the writing goes through upon the 
next page, and when the blackness that divides two 
worlds is swept away, there, the history of each 
life remains legible in eternity." 

"The only question worth asking in regard to 
the externals of our life is, 'how far does each thing 
help me to be a good man?' And to care whether 
a thing is painful or pleasant, is as absurd as to care 
whether the brick layer's trowel is knocking the 
sharp corner off a brick, or plastering mortar on 
the one below it before he lays it carefully on its 
course. 'Is the building getting on?' That is the 
one question that is worth thinking about." 

"If we have once got hold of the principle that 
all which is, summer and winter, storm and sun- 
shine, possession and loss, memory and hope, work 
and rest, and all the other antitheses of life, is 
equally the product of His (God's) will, equally 
His means for our discipline; then we have the 
amulet and talisman which will preserve us from 
the fever of desire and the shivering fits of anxiety 
as to things that perish. As they tell us of a Chris- 
tian Father (Bernard of Clairvaux), who, travel- 
ing by one of the great lakes of Switzerland all 
day long on his journey to the church council that 
was absorbing his thoughts, said toward evening 
to the deacon who was pacing by him, 'Where is 
the Lake?' So you and I, journeying along the 
margin of this great flood of things when wild 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

storm sweeps across it or when the sunbeams glint 
upon its waters and "birds of peace sit brooding 
on the charmed wave," shall be careless of the 
changeful sea, if the eye looks beyond the visible 
and beholds the unseen, the unchanging real pres- 
ences that make glory in the darkest lives and 
* sunshine in the shady places.' " 

The greatest value of such imaginative power 
in the preacher combined with his religious sensi- 
bility and emotion to intensify it, is that by it he 
is able to invest familiar and commonplace truths 
with fresh charm and potency, and thus renew or 
keep perpetually alive their practical influence 
over the heart. Most religious truth after a while 
becomes trite and commonplace; on this account men 
are in danger of neglecting it, But if men neglect 
it, before they have acted upon it and wrought 
its saving and sanctifying virtue into their hearts 
and lives, they do so at their peril. Happy and 
most useful, therefore, is the preacher who has the 
power of rescuing men from that peril by preserv- 
ing through his imaginative charm the practical 
influence of the truth. Example; 2d sermon, third 
series of "Sermons Preached in Manchester"; "The 
Bitterness and Blessedness of Brevity of Life." 

(6) He possessed a thoughtful and suggestive mind. 
Dr. Joseph Parker, speaking of him, says: "He 
always says something to his people, something that 
sticks. In this respect he is much superior to Spur- 
geon. He thinks more and better." He is not 
merely a preacher, occasionally, of great sermons, 
like Professor Park and Robert Hall; but an in- 

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ALEXANDER McLAREN 

exhaustively productive preacher of good sermons; 
sermons which as a rule made a powerful impres- 
sion, and made it for the truth he preached and 
not chiefly for the preacher. His native capacity 
for strong, rich thoughts was strengthened by his 
habits of brooding over his truth and of careful 
elaboration of it in preparation for preaching. 
Schooling himself, as he did, to "use, as his first 
and chief organ of expression of thought, not the 
pen but the tongue," the wonder is that he was 
able in the premeditation of his sermons to exact 
from his mind so much genuine, prolonged, con- 
secutive thinking. It implied great native mental 
ability perfected by the discipline of education and 
held to its work by the most determined will. As 
examples of clear, admirable and just thinking, 
study the 13th and 23d sermons, of the third series 
of the "Manchester Sermons." Because of this qual- 
ity we do not know of any sermons that better de- 
serve, or would better repay careful study than Dr. 
McLaren's. They are valuable for their wealth 
of Biblical truth adorned with great learning and 
a chastened imagination; for their exemplification 
of the highest homiletic skill, and for the convincing 
proof they afford to any intelligent, fair-minded 
reader, that a sermon, ideally considered, instead 
of being a dull, vapid talk, or a heavy essay, as 
is commonly supposed, may be, and often is a de- 
lightful, uplifting, profitable discourse well worth 
a man's thoughtful attention. 

(7) He ^possessed an invincible faith in the perma- 
nent value and importance of the preacher's office. 

20 305 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

As God had appointed that men should be saved 
by the preaching of the gospel, Dr. McLaren could 
not be made to think that this office would ever 
become useless and the pulpit effete. "The teaching 
office of the preacher is depreciated," he said, "as 
being superseded by the hundred- voiced press. 
But granting the influence of the press, if this 
supersedes the pulpit, it is the fault of the occupant 
thereof. A certain minister once told a shrewd old 
Scotch lady that he was engaged to deliver an 
address on the power of the pulpit, and asked what 
her views on the subject were. She answered: 'The 
power of the pulpit! That depends on wha's in 
it, ' which is a truth to be laid to heart by all preach- 
ers. No man is superseded but through his own 
deficiencies. There must be weakness in the wall 
which the storm blows down. The living voice has 
all its old power today, when it is a voice and not 
an echo, or a mumble. If a man has anything 
to say, and will say it with all his heart, and with 
all his soul, and with all his strength, he will not lack 
auditors. Books have their province, and preachers 
have theirs, and neither can efface the other, or 
supply the place of the other." 

In this confidence he worked on with unflagging 
zeal. His wife, who was his cousin, Marion 
McLaren, contributed much to his success. They 
were married March 27, 1856, while he was yet in 
Southampton. She gave to the last two years of 
his ministry there its crowning grace, and in Man- 
chester for more than a quarter of a century she 
greatly helped him. 

306 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

Writing in his old age to Sir William Robertson 
Nicoll in regard to a sketch of his career in the Brit- 
ish Monthly, he said of his wife: "I would fain that 
in any notices of what I am, or have been able to 
do, it should be told that the best part of it all 
came and comes from her. We read and thought 
together, and her clear, bright intellect illumined 
obscurities and 'rejoiced in the truth.' We worked 
and bore together, and her courage and deftness 
made toil easy and charmed away difficulties. She 
lived a life of nobleness, of strenuous effort, of as- 
piration, of sympathy, self-forgetfulness and love. 
She was my guide, my inspirer, my corrector, my 
reward. Of all human formative influences on my 
character and life hers is the strongest and best. 
To write of me and not to name her is to present 
a fragment." 

Their union was ideal. When she was taken from 
him December 21, 1884, he was stunned at his loss, 
and life seemed robbed of its chief charm. In the 
words of Browning: "The soul of his soul had been 
taken from his side. " 

The first of the three stages of McLaren's Man- 
chester ministry was from 1858 to 1875, when he 
was chosen president of the Baptist Union, the 
highest dignity that a Baptist minister can attain 
in England. He was then but forty-nine — younger 
than anyone ever previously chosen. The office 
was never given to anyone but a man of first rank. 
What had been the achievements which won for 
him this honor? Besides the good work done in 
Southampton that had attracted the attention 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

of Union Chapel, Manchester, the following things 
in Manchester: In the first place he soon gained 
there a great increase of reputation as a preacher. 
Before long it became noised abroad through the 
city that a remarkable preacher had come to them. 
"Very soon," says his biographer, "the congrega- 
tion ceased to be drawn from the immediate neigh- 
borhood. Listeners came from all parts of the city 
and beyond it. Some came in carriages, very many 
came on foot. There were no tram cars or bicycles 
in those days, but many a young clerk or student 
who worked hard through the week found his way 
by 10.30 a. m. to Union Chapel, and left it 
refreshed in spirit and resolved to come again." 

The church grew in numbers and vitality. On 
account of the increase of numbers the chapel which 
he found there became much too strait for them and 
a new chapel of much larger capacity and superior 
equipment for their flourishing work was built after 
he had been with them eleven years. His people 
felt the pressing need of it long before its erection, 
— but he rather discouraged the undertaking. He 
feared that the new chapel "would be half -empty." 
The chapel was opened, however, for worship in 
November, 1869, and from the first it was crowded. 
"The congregations," we are told, "were as remark- 
able for their composition as for their size. They 
contained men of all classes and creeds, rich and 
prosperous merchants, men distinguished in pro- 
fessional life, and others working their way toward 
success. Young men from the offices and warehouses 
of the city sat side by side with artisans. Strangers 

308 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

were attracted in large numbers, among them 
clergymen and dignitaries of the Established Church, 
Non-conformist ministers, literary men, artists and 
students from the theological colleges." 

As a result of the growth and "vitality" of his 
church, missions sprang up in the neighborhood 
like offshoots around a flourishing tree. These 
were "chiefly staffed and supported by the Union 
Chapel congregation." His influence was so great 
and inspiring that volunteers for the work in every 
case and ample funds to sustain it were easily 
raised. He only needed to point out a good chance 
for Christian service to have it embraced by those 
he deemed fit to undertake it and able to support it. 
Besides having a kind of oversight of these off- 
shoots from his church he showed such an interest 
in the small and feeble churches in his vicinity that 
they began to flourish under the stimulating con- 
sciousness of his regard for them. "Gradually with- 
out his even thinking of it," says his biographer, 
"he did very much the work of a 'bishop,' and his 
diocese was not a small one." He became first of 
"the three mighties" of his ministerial association. 
"No one was so frequently elected to preach the asso- 
ciation sermon, to write the circular letter or to take 
a prominent part in the meetings as Dr. McLaren. 
Ministerial recognition services were considered 
sadly incomplete if he could not be present, and the 
joy of the opening or re -opening of a chapel was 
sensibly diminished when he could not preach one 
of the sermons." He was in demand for special 
occasions there in Manchester, and in London. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

In the great Free Trade Hall of Manchester he 
first spoke at the annual meeting of the City Mis- 
sion in 1860 at the same time that Joseph Parker 
made his debut there. The two men, we are told, 
were striking contrasts to one another in appear- 
ance and in what they said, but both arrested at- 
tention from the very first and retained it. It 
was not long before he became an object of enthusi- 
astic love and admiration for the whole city — its 
pride, as giving distinction to Manchester. "He 
never, perhaps, took part in a meeting in the Free 
Trade Hall when the large building was not filled to 
its utmost capacity, and for years before the close 
of his career almost invariably the immense audi- 
ence rose to receive him and cheer enthusiastically." 

He was invited to preach before the London 
Missionary Society, at its annual meeting held 
in old Surrey Chapel, the scene of many noted 
gatherings. The sermon given had for its subject 
"The Secret of Power." Though it was more than 
fifty years ago, there are some still living who were 
present on the occasion and remember "the awed 
attention of the great congregation. " Among those 
who came into the vestry to greet him after the 
service was Dr. Binney, who, when McLaren was 
a young minister at Southampton had visited and 
preached for him, and given him such an insight 
into the art of preaching by his talk and the ex- 
ample of his sermon, that he said many years after- 
wards, "it was Binney taught me to preach." 
McLaren, noticing his entrance, came forward to 
meet him, and they silently clasped each other's 

310 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

hands, both faces eloquent with emotion. The 
pupil had surpassed his master; for Binney felt, 
as he afterwards told a friend, that he himself "had 
fallen so far short of the ideal that had been placed 
before him, he had never even seen it as an ideal. " 
The sermon gives the title to one of McLaren's 
published sermons. It is a remarkable sermon. 
Few Christians can read it without being thrilled 
by its thought and spiritual "power," though such 
was his humility that he never would have thought 
of himself as an example of it. 

By the end of the first stage in his Manchester 
ministry, McLaren's manner and style of preaching 
had become formed. We may therefore now pict- 
ure him to ourselves as a preacher having the quali- 
ties ascribed to him in full action and about to enter 
upon its second stage, extending from 1875-1890, 
when J. Edward Roberts became his assistant. 
Everything involved in and contributing to the 
power of his preaching — "that wondrous preach- 
ing, that made one's heart vibrate with infinitude," 
as an intelligent hearer said of it, is important. 
Sabbath morning he desired "to be invisible from 
the time he left his study till he was in his pulpit. " 
His bearing in the pulpit was that of one so engrossed 
with the subject of his message that thought of 
himself did not disturb him. This made him the 
more impressive. The reading of the Scripture 
and the prayer "helped" him, he said, and really 
prepared the way for the sermon. His reading 
interpreted the sense, and in the prayer "I try to 
remember," he said, "that I am speaking to God 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

for others and for myself and that He is listening. " 
The tone of his voice as he prayed unmistakably 
indicated that he did remember God was listening. 

When he rose to deliver his sermon he appeared 
as one whose soul was full of the message he brought. 
His colleague and successor, Mr. Roberts, says of 
him with indubitable truth: "The power that holds 
the congregation spellbound is not only the power 
of a splendid intellect and of a skilled orator, though 
these are there; it is the power of one who has 
come straight from the presence of God into his 
pulpit and who speaks as he is moved by the Holy 
Ghost." Another of his hearers says of him: "His 
two most striking peculiarities are his utter simpli- 
city and his intense earnestness; he literally quivers 
with the intensity of his feeling and his desire to 
give it expression. He looks at you, and you see 
and hear a soul gripping yours and holding it. 
There is no opportunity for criticism. This man 
is a prophet and you must either listen and swallow 
or flee." 

In accord with the two foregoing testimonies 
is that of a plain farmer's wife. Nine years after 
she had heard him preach, she said: "I can hear 
him now; and the strange thing was I never at the 
time thought about its being Dr. McLaren that 
we all knew and liked; it just seemed listening to 
a message from God." A message from God! This 
reminds us of the apostle's words, "As though God 
did beseech you by us, we pray you in Christ's 
stead." That was the impression he endeavored 
to make. Sometimes his entreaty had an individu- 

312 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

alizing personal note, and a profound stillness 
pervaded the assembly as each hearer felt the grip 
of the preacher's soul laid upon and holding him. 
His radiant look assisted his appeal. "The ad- 
dress created an atmosphere," another listener 
said. "The preacher this morning lifted us into 
the region of the spiritual, into the presence of 
Jesus Christ." 

We can scarcely realize what this preaching of 
McLaren meant to him; what an expenditure of 
all the forces of his being — body, mind and spirit. 
Early in his ministry he spoke of each Sunday 
service as a "woe. " "This feeling continued through 
his life," his biographer says, "and only those who 
were with him when he was anticipating, not only 
special services, but his weekly preparation for his 
own pulpit, can know the tear and wear of spirit 
which that preparation involved. " "In retrospect, " 
she says, "it seems little short of a miracle that 
his life of strenuous preparation for each sermon 
preached was continued for nearly sixty years." 

Notice the words, "for each sermon preached," 
for he could not relieve the "tear and wear" of 
this weekly preparation by occasionally preaching 
an old sermon. "He had to revivify it to his own 
mind by hours of thought and prayer. A sermon 
to him needs to be not what he had prepared weeks, 
months or years before, but what filled his mind 
now, as he faced his congregation." 

Though "he had singular nerve power which 
quickened and intensified his thoughts and set 
fire to his words," the wonder is that this "nerve 

313 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

power" freely and constantly drawn upon in the 
preparation for the Sabbath and in the two serv- 
ices preached on that day was not completely ex- 
hausted long before its failure. The secret of its 
unfailing recuperation and remarkable conserva- 
tion through all those years lay in his command of 
sleep — "tired nature's sweet restorer." Like John 
Wesley he could successfully invoke sleep when 
needed. For its interest as a physiological fact 
and for the benefit of other preachers, we quote 
the entire paragraph in which his biographer speaks 
of it: "On Sundays, and indeed week days, too, 
he always rested for an hour or more in the afternoon. 
The whole time was spent in sleep. He had a most 
remarkable power of being able to sleep at will, 
a power without which he could scarcely have con- 
tinued the strenuous life he led for so many years. 
He could say that, notwithstanding life-long per- 
turbation before each sermon and public engage- 
ment of any kind, he had never lost a night's sleep 
either before or after even those he dreaded most. 
During the last year of his life he said: "Very early 
in my career as a minister I resolved that when my 
head reached the pillow and 'I will both lay me 
down to sleep,' or its equivalent had been said, 
I would try to make my mind a blank, and I thank 
God I have been able very successfully to do so 
through my long life." 

The popularity and success of a preacher depends 
much upon the personal impression he makes upon 
the community in which he lives and upon men 
generally. If he is conceited and "puts on airs," 

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ALEXANDER McLAREN 

he repels men, no matter how great his gifts; if, on 
the other hand, he is a modest, friendly, approach- 
able man, shows a kindly heart, and withal is pos- 
sessed of a genial humor, so that he can tell a good 
story and is ready to laugh appreciatively at the 
stories of other men, he is liked by all and his bril- 
liant pulpit gifts will win the more admiration. Dr. 
McLaren was a man of the latter kind. There was 
nothing stiff, austere, or clerical about him. His 
dress and manner were those of an unpretentious, 
ordinary gentleman. He usually wore what the 
Scotchmen call a soft hat and the light-colored suit 
of the business man and he had the rapid, springy 
walk of a "lay "-man. His biographer tells two 
anecdotes in regard to his appearance to strangers 
who saw and met him on his vacations. An old 
woman, when informed that the gentleman to whom 
she had been "tellin' the road" was a minister, said 
firmly, "I dinna think it, he's ower light in his 
walk and he loupit ower the burn like ony thing. " 

A copy of his photograph placed in the photog- 
rapher's window was recognized by tourists from 
Manchester and Liverpool. Many copies of it were 
called for by would-be purchasers. The artist, 
finding that the negative had not been preserved, 
sulkily remarked: "That man micht hae tellt 
me he was famous, and I would hae keepit him — 
he didna look like it." 

In 1877 the University of Edinburgh conferred 
upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity, an honor 
which, though accepted with hesitation because of 
his modesty, he ultimately appreciated and enjoyed. 

315 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

"After the ceremony was over Professor Blackie 
said to a friend, 'Commend me, among all the 
faces there, to McLaren, with his clear-cut features 
and eagle eyes.'" 

Towards the end of 1880, after he had been in 
Manchester twenty-two years he showed signs of 
impaired health. Work was difficult and preaching 
impossible. He became depressed and thought of 
sending in his resignation. His church responded 
with promptness to what was clearly demanded, 
that he should be released from work as long as 
necessary for his recovery. No time was fixed but 
he took a year for rest and recuperation. Toward 
the end of 1881 he resumed his work — "but with 
a difference. Up to this time he had had no as- 
sistant, but now the Rev. J. G. Raws was chosen 
for that office. And after this time Dr. McLaren 
only preached once each Sunday, while Mr. Raws 
supplied that which was lacking on his part and 
greatly added to his peace of mind." His inter- 
rupted work, taken up again, was carried on with 
renewed vigor and sustained energy until his wife 
died in December, 1884. What her loss meant to 
him and his children cannot be described. "For 
a time he could not face meeting friends, however 
sympathetic, " and he hid himself from them. But he 
felt that he still had his work to do and he was only 
three Sundays away from his pulpit. The shadow of 
his great affliction, however, remained, "seen in the 
lines of his face, heard in the pathetic ring of his 
voice, and, above all, felt in the chastened, tender, 
but always manly tone of his mature teaching." 

316 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

His fame as a preacher had reached to the antipo- 
des, and in 1888 he was earnestly invited to come 
to Australia and New Zealand as the representa- 
tive of the English Baptish Union, and on Septem- 
ber 21, he and his two unmarried daughters sailed 
from London. His reception and entertainment 
in Adelaide, Melbourne and Dunedin, N. Z., were 
enthusiastic and the tour through the islands was 
one of repeated ovations — a triumphal progress. 
"Everywhere," he wrote, "we have met with the 
truest kindness. I have felt the unflagging attention 
of the great audiences (3,000 they tell me) most 
inspiring and I feel thankful that good has been 
done. . . . The butter has been laid on with a 
spade, but the heat has melted it and it has mostly 
run off." "I have never spoken to more sym- 
pathetic and more responsive audiences. They 
have helped me greatly." The stimulus of such 
interest and enthusiasm led him to overdo. "I 
feel as if I had come to an end," he said before the 
end of a month, and a pause was necessary. 

On his way back to England he doubted being 
able to begin work again and he thought of res- 
ignation. During his absence his assistant, Mr. 
Raws, had received a call to a pastorate elsewhere 
and was only awaiting Mr. McLaren's return to 
leave. This gave him anxiety. After several months, 
in January, 1890, Mr. J. Edwards Roberts, still 
in college, was chosen for his assistant and "so 
began the long connection (of thirteen years) honor- 
able to both." 

We come now to the third (and last) stage of Dr. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

McLaren's ministry in Manchester, from 1890- 
1903. It was a stage of declining physical strength, 
but of little less mental vigor. 

In 1896 he completed the fiftieth year of his 
ministry, and interest in the event was widely felt 
and signally manifested. "An address handsomely 
bound" signed by three hundred and fifty fellow 
ministers was presented to him. On the occasion 
of its presentation, "he most truly received an ova- 
tion" from the large audience assembled. With 
evident emotion he said, "I can only render from 
my heart of hearts thanks, largely mingled with 
wonder, at the place which you allow me to feel 
that I hold in your regard." 

"In Manchester the desire to commemorate Dr. 
McLaren's Jubilee finally took the form of asking 
him to sit for his portrait, which was to be pre- 
sented to the city and placed in the art gallery." 
The formal presentation of the portrait was accom- 
panied by speeches from the Lord Mayor, Bishop 
Morehouse, and Dr. McLaren's friend, Sir William 
Crossley, who was in the chair. 

The testimonies of the bishop and of the chairman 
in regard to the eminence and power of Dr. McLaren 
as a preacher are so impressive as to justify quota- 
tion. Said Bishop Morehouse: "Thirty years ago 
I was studying with great profit the published ser- 
mons of the gentleman we honor today; and I will 
say this, that in an age which had been charmed 
and inspired by the sermons of Newman and Robert- 
son of Brighton, there are no published discourses 
which for profundity of thought, logical arrange- 

318 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

ment, eloquence of appeal and power over the human 
heart, exceed in merit those of Dr. McLaren." 

Sir William Crossley said: "Dr. McLaren's writ- 
ings are well known and have made him friends 
all over the world. Those who have heard him preach 
know him better still, and those who have known 
and loved him for many years and have enjoyed 
his friendship know him best of all. But all are 
are deeply indebted to him not only for his high 
scholarship, but for the marvelous power he has of 
getting round men's hearts, elevating their desires 
and making them think more and more about spirit- 
ual things." 

Another notable occasion during the period we 
are now considering was the joint meeting of the 
Baptist and Congregational Unions held in the City 
Temple, London, April, 1901, when Dr. McLaren 
gave his famous address (above referred to), "An 
Old Preacher on Preaching." The Temple was 
densely crowded and many could not get in. Con- 
trary to his custom he had written out the address 
fully and read it. But notwithstanding the restraint 
it was heard throughout with rapt attention. Sir 
W. R. Nicoll said of it, "Considering its design and 
its speaker and its audience, it was simply perfect 
and will never be forgotten by those who heard it. " 
But strange to say, we learn from his biographer 
that Dr. McLaren's own verdict was, "A failure 
because I read it. Again and again I was tempted 
to fling the paper from me and let myself go." 

In October of 1901 still another notable occasion 
was the autumn meeting of the Baptist Union in 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Edinburgh, at which he again occupied the chair, 
and as president gave the usual address. The sub- 
ject of his address was "Evangelical Mysticism," 
which, he said, "though theoretically recognized 
by all does not enter in its due proportion into either 
the creed or the experience of most of us, to the 
great detriment, as I believe, of both experience 
and creed." A passage toward the end, "when," 
we are told, "his radiant look told even more than 
his words" gives us probably a just idea of his sub- 
ject and his own conception of it. "Consider how 
the consciousness of the higher life in Christ brings 
with it an absolute incapacity of believing that 
what men call death can effect it. Christ in us is 
'the hope of Glory.' The true evidence for immor- 
tality lies in the deep experience of the Christian 
spirit. It is when a man can say 'Thou art the 
strength of my heart,' that the conviction springs 
up inevitable and triumphant that such a union 
can no more be severed by the physical accident 
of death than a spirit can be wounded by a sword, 
and that, therefore, he has the right to say further, 
'and my portion forever.' " 

On the last Sunday in June, 1903, at the comple- 
tion of the forty-fifth year of his Manchester ministry 
he ended his pastoral labors with Union Chapel, 
having previously informed his congregation that 
the time had come when he had no longer the "physi- 
cal strength for the continuous discharge of the 
joyous duties" thereof. 

But though he scarcely preached again, there 
or elsewhere, he does not wish to resign himself 

320 



ALEXANDER McLAREN 

to entire idleness. Years before this he quotes with 
approval Whittier's "My Psalm" and its lines, 

"I break my pilgrim staff, I lay 
Aside the toiling oar," 

as appropriate to the anticipated close of his pastoral 
work. He now has got beyond that feeling and has 
John Wesley's desire "to cease at once to work and 
live," and says that "to enjoy a well earned rest is a 
delusion. " The habit of creative work and the habit 
of doing it constrains him to exercise his faculties as 
his diminished strength may permit for the remaining 
seven years of his life. It was very good work too, 
such as his Expositions of the American Sunday- 
school lessons in the Sunday-School Times, and 
"The Expositions of Holy Scripture," though at 
times he would ask, "Is it not foolish for an old 
man to imagine he can do good work?" 

But best of all, those last years were years of 
growing fitness for heaven. Writing to a friend he 
said, "You will get patience increased if you * prac- 
tice the Presence of God.' I feel for myself that 
that is what I need most. Call the attitude by any 
name you like, it is the life of all our religion. Christ's 
name for it is the best, 'Abide in Me.' " 

Writing to another friend, he says, "You ask 
me about my thoughts when they are free. I think 
I can say that they do often, and with a kind of 
instinct, turn Godward. Many times they glide 
thither, perhaps because age diminishes wish to work 
and indolence as much as devotion determines the 
set of the current. I do not wish you to think that 

21 321 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

my thoughts invariably turn God ward. It is often 
difficult to keep them fixed on God or Christ, but 
I am quite sure the more we make the effort to pene- 
trate all our life with conscious contemplation of 
the Divine Presence and Love, the more peaceful 
we shall be and the better able to accept His will 
and to find it right." 

His attending physician asks "Who could be for 
any time in his company without feeling that his pre- 
sence and his words were at once an inspiration and 
a benediction?" Talking with him concerning the 
future, he said: "I cannot perhaps always, but 
sometimes I can say (with Richard Baxter) 

"But 'tis enough that Christ knows all 
And I shall be with Him." 

"On the afternoon of May 5, 1910, very quietly 
the end came." His ashes were laid beside those 
of his wife, where years before a stone cross had 
been erected with the words, In Christo, in Pace, 
in Spe. The trustful words express his state of 
mind as he approached that grave in the beautiful 
sunset of his life, when we fancy Tennyson's lines 
may have often recurred to him: 

"Sunset and evening star, 

And one clear call for me! 
And may there be no moaning of the bar. 

When I put out to sea. 

***** 

"For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place 
The flood may bear me far, 
I hope to see my Pilot face to face 
When I have crossed the bar." 

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IX 
HENRY WARD BEECHER 



IX 
HENRY WARD BEECHER 

1813-1887 

This man may be regarded as the greatest of 
American preachers. This is the opinion of many 
judges of the highest eminence. Let the estimates 
of two of these stand for the substance of the ex- 
pressed opinions of a score. "That is true of him 
as a pulpit orator," Professor G. B. Willcox says, 
"which never has been true before of any other 
preacher in this country and will never be true again ; 
if in any company of intelligent persons you should 
speak of the foremost preacher on this continent 
without mentioning his name, nine persons in every 
ten would know whom you meant." 

The second judge is Dr. Armitage, a distinguished 
Baptist preacher of New York, who says of him: 
"His sermons exhibit a larger reading of human 
nature, a broader use of philosophical inquiry, a 
fresher application of Gospel truths, a clearer induc- 
tion of common sense, and a more independent 
rectitude than can be found in any other modern 
preacher." 

In our inquiry as to the influences contributing 
to make him great, we find that heredity is to be 
reckoned among the chief. His father and mother 
were both superior persons. His father, Lyman 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Beecher, was one of the greatest preachers of his 
generation. Dr. J. H. Barrows, who denominates 
him "the King of the New England Pulpit" at the 
time, describes him as "a man of magnetic eloquence, 
restless energy, and great evangelical fervor!" 
His name is associated with important reforms, as 
that against dueling, in regard to which he preached 
a notable, widely-read sermon called out by the 
death of Alexander Hamilton through his duel 
with Aaron Burr; and especially the Temper- 
ance reform, in regard to which he preached a series 
of powerful sermons that did much to check the 
flood of intemperance which then was desolating 
the land. 

Lyman Beecher was a man of indomitable spirit, 
whom no difficulties could daunt, and a tireless 
worker for the promotion of good. His illustrious 
son said of him: "My father always had the angel 
of hope looking over his shoulder when he wrote." 
He was an earnest believer in and advocate of the 
"New Theology," as it was then called, as contrasted 
with the old, fatalistic hyper- Calvinis tic theology, 
which denied free agency and the sinner's ability to 
repent and embrace the salvation of Christ revealed 
in the Gospel. He was a sanguine, self-reliant 
man. He believed that if he could have talked with 
the poet Byron, he could have so clearly explained 
to him the truth of the Gospel that all his mental 
difficulties would have been removed, and he would 
have been converted from his misanthropy and 
become a joyful Christian. He was withal a frolic- 
some man with his children; he used to dance with 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

them in his stocking feet to the music of his own 
violin and the great damage of his stockings. He 
familiarized them with the questions of the day, set 
his boys to arguing with him concerning them, and 
"thus," says Dr. Abbott, "developed their mental 
muscle, taught them to do their own thinking and 
to stand by their convictions and defend them. He 
had a delightfully naive, childlike egotism, quite 
free from self-conceit, yet inspiring him with a kind 
of self-assurance which is often the precursor of 
victory." He became through his oratorical ability 
the champion of Orthodoxy. "He was by nature 
a warrior and delighted in battle," and in Boston, 
whither he was called in 1826 to be the pastor of the 
Hanover Street Congregational Church, where he 
remained six years and a half, he achieved great 
distinction by his successful defense and vindica- 
tion of evangelical Christianity from the attacks of 
Unitarianism, through which the tide of unbelief 
was stayed and large gains were made by revivals 
of great power to the ranks of the orthodox faith. 
Wendell Phillips was one of his converts. "I was 
made for action," he said, "the Lord drove me on; 
but I was ready. I have always been going full 
speed." Having such a father, Henry Ward Beecher 
inherited from him zeal for God's truth and right- 
eousness, independence of mind and a gift of convinc- 
ing speech. 

His mother, Roxana Foote Beecher, was no less 
remarkable as a woman than her husband among 
men. The testimonies of her children, Catherine, 
Harriet and Henry Ward, have wreathed her char- 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

acter with a crown of womanly virtues that make it 
saintly. She was an ardent lover of nature and good 
literature, of painting and music. "There was a 
moral force about her," says Mrs. Stowe, "a dignity 
of demeanor and an air of elegance which produced 
a constant atmosphere of unconscious awe in the 
minds of little children." She had also "one of 
those strong, restful and yet widely sympathetic 
natures in whom all around seemed to find 
comfort and repose." " She possessed," says Abbott, 
"that peculiar strength which comes from close and 
intimate communion with God," and "her piety 
of spirit and her placidity of temperament combined 
to give her an equipoise which made her the trusted 
counselor of her husband, on whose judgment he 
depended, and in whose calm his own turbulent 
spirit found rest." Henry Ward Beecher inherited 
from his mother those qualities which were most 
characteristic of her and which constituted his 
social charm. She died when he was but little more 
than three years old, but she remained all his life a 
potent influence. "No devout Catholic," he said, 
"ever saw so much in the Virgin Mary as I have 
seen in my mother, who has been a presence to me 
ever since I can remember." 

Having such parents, to whom he was born in 
Litchfield, Conn., June 24, 1813, and brought up in 
the companionship of sisters and brothers richly 
endowed with native genius, he derived from home 
and family the best and most inspiring impulses. 

And yet there was nothing precocious, or intel- 
lectually remarkable in him, as a child or boy. On 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

the contrary, he was rather dull and backward in his 
studies, and chiefly remarkable for his love of fun 
and good-natured mischief, his abounding animal 
health and spirits. This was true of him in Litch- 
field and in Boston, to which city his father removed 
when Henry was thirteen years old. He was sent 
to Boston's famous Latin School, the educational 
nursery of so many distinguished men; he entered 
it soon after Charles Sumner had left it, and while 
Wendell Phillips was still in it; but its classic atmos- 
phere and splendid traditions did not kindle in him 
any ambition or fondness for study. It "was to 
him a Sinaitic desert." "He became moody, rest- 
less and irritable." In this condition of mind he 
was set by his wise father to reading biographies of 
great sailors and naval heroes. From his reading, 
the desire to go to sea was kindled in him. His 
father did not object, but advised him first to qualify 
himself by further study to be something more 
than a common sailor. Henry confessed that he 
aspired to be a captain or a commodore, and that it 
would be well for him to study mathematics and 
navigation. So he consented to go to Mt. Pleasant 
School, near Amherst, where boys fitted for college, 
and his shrewd father still hoped in this way that 
his son would finally enter the ministry. 

At this school he found two teachers that had 
the faculty of stimulating him to good work in study 
by showing him how to study and what benefit he 
might gain from application to it. They were John 
E. Lovell, who taught him elocution, of whom he 
afterwards said: "A better teacher in his department 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

was never made," and W. P. Fitzgerald, the teacher 
of mathematics, who taught him to conquer in study- 
ing, and to be sure of his ground by making him 
defend and prove the correctness of his solutions. 
While at Mt. Pleasant a revival occurred and he 
was numbered among the converts and united with 
his father's church in Boston. The awakening of 
his mind to study and the quickening of his religious 
life wrought by the revival, led him to give up the 
idea of a sailor's life and to turn his thoughts toward 
the ministry. 

In 1830, his eighteenth year, he entered Amherst 
College. "To college," says Dr. Abbott, "he carried 
with him a nature of strange contradictions. A mas- 
culine robustness of nature mated to a feminity of 
spirit — a habit of hard work (formed at Mt. Pleas- 
ant), but a habit of working according to his own 
mood, not according to rules prescribed to him by 
others." This disposition, as might be supposed, 
prevented him from winning a high grade in his class. 
His college standing is indicated by his later remark, 
that he once "stood next to the head of his class, 
but it was when the class was arranged in a circle." 
But though he gave no more attention to the allotted 
studies than was necessary to enable him to pass, he 
was a diligent reader of books and an investigator of 
subjects that interested him, and he gained among 
his fellow-students a reputation for uncommon ability 
as a writer, a debater and public speaker. Among 
the subjects debated was the question of the African 
colonization of American negroes. He was given 
the negative, and fifty years after he said: "In pre- 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

paring that speech, I prepared for my whole life." 
Through his growing fondness for public speaking 
and the reputation he thus acquired, he was repeat- 
edly invited during his course to conduct prayer- 
meetings, to preach, to lecture on temperance and 
phrenology and other topics, by which he earned 
some money and in which he acquitted himself with 
growing distinction. In the winter vacations he 
taught school in various places to assist in his college 
support, and in every place was he forward to speak 
on subjects of moral reform and religious duty. 

During his college course at Amherst his father 
was called to the Presidency of Lane Theological 
Seminary, Cincinnati, where Henry entered in 1834, 
at twenty-one, immediately after his graduation 
from college. His Seminary course was similar to 
his college course in its miscellaneous reading and 
the studies given to topics outside the prescribed 
curriculum. From only one part of the regular 
seminary work did he get much benefit by devoting 
himself to its study; that was in the Bible studies 
taken under Professor Calvin E. Stowe, who later 
married his sister Harriet. "By him he was led 
into a thorough study and analysis of the Bible as a 
body of truth, instinct with God, warm with all 
divine and human sympathies, clothed with language 
adapted to their best expression and to be understood 
as similar language used for similar ends in everyday 
life." 

These studies, especially those relating to the 
Gospels and the Epistles of St. Paul, were fruitful 
studies, which in later years gave to his preaching, 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

to a remarkable degree, a rare insight into the mind 
of Christ and a comprehensive and sure grasp of the 
essentials of Christian truth. To systematic, tech- 
nical theology he paid but little attention, and he 
never showed much interest in or knowledge of it. 
In fact he was lamentably and discreditably lacking 
in his acquaintance with its definitions, conflicting 
theories, and discussions. But his repugnance was 
not without some justification. He had grown up 
in an atmosphere of theological discussion and con- 
troversy, and Lane Seminary then was a veritable 
storm center of theological controversy, between the 
old-school and the new-school theologies. His 
father, who warmly championed the teachings of 
the new school, was fiercely assailed, — so fiercely 
that he was compelled to leave his wife's death bed 
to defend himself before Presbytery and Synod from 
the charge of heresy. Thus "Henry Ward Beecher 
learned," says Dr. Barrows, "that however earnest, 
unselfish and consecrated the life of a Christian 
minister, like his father, might be, he was not safe 
from persecution and deposition from the ministry, 
unless he assented and conformed to the literal 
teachings of what he deemed an irrational, mislead- 
ing and obsolescent theology." The spectacle 
filled him with perplexity and disgust. He had, 
therefore, no taste for theological study and inquiry. 
He was not idle, however. He "taught a Bible 
class of young ladies, making the most careful prep- 
aration for his work"; for a time he acted as editor 
of the Cincinnati Journal; he lectured on temperance; 
he preached as he found opportunity. But the 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

bewilderment of mind produced by the theological 
controversies of that time naturally resulted in a 
feeling of uncertainty and mental doubt. The 
future looked dark and his prospects dubious. Could 
he ever get a license to preach, or a church willing 
to hear him? "I must preach the gospel as it is 
revealed to me," he said, but he had no clear reve- 
lation for a while upon which he could plant his feet 
with any degree of assurance. But at length such 
a revelation came. The account of it is given in the 
first chapter of Dr. Lyman Abbott's "Henry Ward 
Beecher," a remarkably interesting book; also in 
the seventh chapter of Dr. John Henry Barrows' 
valuable biography. A portion of the account of 
Dr. Abbott we here give, for the bearing it has upon 
a proper understanding of Henry Ward Beecher's 
ministry : 

"I was a child," he says "of teaching and prayer: 
I was reared in the household of faith: I knew the 
catechism as it was taught: I was instructed in the 
Scriptures as they were expounded from the pulpit 
and read by men, and yet, till after I was twenty- 
one years old, I groped without the knowledge of 
God in Christ Jesus. I know not what the tablets 
of Eternity have written down, but I think that when 
I stand in Zion and before God the brightest thing 
I shall look back upon will be that blessed May 
morning when it pleased God to reveal to my won- 
dering soul the idea that it was His nature to love 
a man in his sins for the sake of helping him out of 
them; that He did not do it out of compliment to 
Christ, or to a law, or a plan of salvation, but from 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

the fulness of His great heart; that He was a being 
not made mad by sin, but sorry; that He was not 
furious with wrath toward the sinner, but pitied 
him: In short, that He felt toward me as my mother 
felt toward me, to whose eyes my wrongdoing brought 
tears and who would fain with her yearning love 
lift me out of my trouble. . . . And when I 
found that Jesus Christ had such a disposition and 
that when his disciples did wrong he drew them closer 
to Him than He did before, and when pride and jeal- 
ousy and rivalry and all vulgar and worldly feelings 
rankled in their bosoms, He opened His heart unto 
them as a medicine to heal these infirmities, I felt 
that I had found a God. . . . Time went 
on and next came the disclosure of a Christ ever 
present with me, a Christ that was never far from 
me, but was always near me, as a companion and 
friend, to uphold and sustain me. This was the 
last and the best revelation of God's spirit to my 
soul. It is what I consider to be the culminating 
work of God's grace in a man; and no man is a Chris- 
tian until he has experienced it. I do not mean 
that a man cannot be a good man until then, but he 
has not got to Jerusalem till he has seen the King 
sitting in his glory, with love to him individually." 
This vision colored and shaped his whole after-life 
and ministry. He regarded it as an epitome of 
the gospel, as the sum and substance of Christianity, 
and he was eager to proclaim it to the world. Its 
effect upon him was like that wrought upon Luther 
by the heavenly voice: "The just shall live by faith"; 
or that produced in John Wesley, when his burden 

334 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

of sin rolled off as he listened to the interpretation 
of Paul's letter to the Romans given by a devout 
Moravian at an Alder sgate Street meeting in London. 
He felt that he now had a message, a real gospel 
message for mankind, and his heart burned to tell it. 

The opportunity came in 1837, when, at his grad- 
uation from the seminary, he received a call to a 
small Presbyterian church in Lawrenceburg, Indi- 
ana, at a nominal salary of $400, including what 
he received from the Home Missionary Society. 
The church was composed of twenty members, 
nineteen women and one (poor stick of a) man. 
He served it two years, performing the duties of 
both preacher and sexton. He says: "I swept the 
church and lighted my own fire. I took care of 
everything connected with the building." Upon 
this meager salary he ventured to marry. The 
young man and his wife began housekeeping in two 
rooms over a stable, furnished with borrowed fur- 
niture. Surely no minister ever made a humbler 
beginning! He entered upon his work with some 
definite ideas as to the conditions of success. In his 
journal these entries are found: "Remember you 
can gain men easily if you get round their prejudices 
and put truth in their minds; but never if you attack 
prejudices." "My people must be alert to make 
the church agreeable, to give seats and wait on 
strangers." "Secure a large congregation; let this be 
the first thing." 

The young minister made a favorable impression 
at the very start by his genial sociability and friend- 
liness and his good sermons, so that the "large 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

congregation" — as large as the little church could 
hold — which he had deemed as of first importance, 
was soon secured. 

Of his preaching he says: "I preached some theo- 
logy; as a man chops straw and mixes it with Indian 
meal in order to distend the stomach of the ox that 
eats it, so I chopped a little of the regular orthodox 
theology [picked up while in the seminary and in 
the discussions at home with his father] that I 
might sprinkle it with the meal of the Lord Jesus 
Christ. But my horizon grew larger and larger 
in that one idea of Christ." 

As his horizon of truth enlarged his field of influ- 
ence widened. In 1839 he was called to the Second 
Presbyterian Church, Indianapolis, at a salary of 
$600; which call, after twice declining it, he at 
length accepted at the request of the synod. Indi- 
anapolis then had a population of only 4000, and 
its distinguishing features, Dr. Barrows says, were 
"mud and malaria." It possessed all the crudeness 
and ugliness of a new Western town. Hogs and pigs 
ran at will in its streets, or wallowed in the muddy 
pools. "With the exception of two or three streets," 
he says, "there were no ways along which could not 
be seen the original stumps of the forests. I bumped 
against them too often in a buggy not to be sure of 
the fact." 

Here, as at Lawrenceburg, a large congregation 
equal to the utmost capacity of the new church 
erected for it, was soon gathered. His originality, 
his freshness of presentation of gospel truth and his 
personal magnetism charmed all who heard him. 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

Dr. Abbott says: "From the first his church was a 
church of strangers. The members of the legisla- 
ture attended it almost in a body. His presentation 
of God as a Father of infinite compassion, whose 
character is revealed in the earthly life of Jesus 
Christ, was, in that time and place, extraordinarily 
novel. Men knew not what to make of it and curi- 
osity commingled with higher motives to attract 
audiences eager to hear this strange gospel." "Here 
I preached my first real sermon," he says. He 
means that not till then did he have a true idea of 
the aim and purpose of a sermon, or did he know how 
to adopt his gospel, "the Gospel of Christ as he had 
learned it from a careful study of the Evangelists 
and as it had been burned into his soul by the heat 
of a great experience," to the various needs of men. 
The true idea of a sermon he saw was this: It is a 
means to an end, and everything in it — text, exposi- 
tion, argument, illustrations — all are to bear upon 
this definite end. "How to adapt his truth to his 
hearers was a discovery made by a careful study of 
the teaching and practice of the Apostles, and 
especially the Apostle Paul. He learned, as John 
Knox and Jonathan Edwards had done before him, 
that they laid "a foundation first of historical truth 
common to them and their auditors; that this mass 
of familiar truth was then concentrated upon the 
hearers in the form of an intense application and 
appeal; that the language was not philosophical 
and scholastic, but the language of common life." 
He tried this method and it met with immediate 
success, which filled him with joy. "I owe more to 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

the Book of Acts and the writings of the Apostle 
Paul than to all other books put together,'' he said. 
These principles which he speaks of are axiomatic 
in Homiletics. We see them exemplified in the 
preaching of Jonathan Edwards, Robertson and 
McLaren, as well as in that of Beecher. From the 
application made of them, great success attended 
his ministry in Indianapolis. His preaching in 
those eight years was especially evangelistic in char- 
acter, and large revivals resulted from it, his church 
increasing eightfold. With great joy and wonder 
he witnessed the work. "He stands upon the shore 
to see the tide come in. It is the move of the infinite 
ethereal tide. It is from the other world." 

He took particular interest in young men and they 
responded to his interest. His church was full of 
them, and for their sakes he prepared a series of 
"Lectures to Young Men," which became famous 
and were republished in England. The pictures of 
vice and sin, which he portrayed in these lectures, 
are most graphic, not to say realistic. The denun- 
ciations poured out upon the sins depicted were 
scathing and terrible, so terrible that once a man, 
who thought that he was particularly aimed at, 
met him on the street with pistol in hand and said: 
"Take it back right here or I will shoot you on the 
spot." "Shoot away," Beecher replied and coolly 
walked on, to the bully's discomfiture. 

He steadily grew in preaching power. His style 
in those days was pictorial, concrete, more florid 
than in later years. But his illustrations, which 
were profuse, were original and ever fresh. He 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

never repeated one. His store was inexhaustible, 
gathered from all fields, nature, science, history, 
literature and the occupations of men, and his appli- 
cation of them was most apt and striking. His 
reputation for eloquence spread throughout the 
land, and calls were extended to him from the Park 
Street Church, Boston, and the newly organized 
Plymouth Church, Brooklyn. The latter, after 
some considerable hesitation, he accepted for the 
sake of his invalid wife, whose health the malarial 
atmosphere of Indianapolis had greatly shattered. 

On the journey east, Mr. Beecher, then thirty- 
six years of age, but appearing younger, was very 
attentive to his wan and sad-faced wife. An old 
lady, whose compassion was touched by her miser- 
able countenance, said to her, encouragingly, while 
he was gone to procure something for her refresh- 
ment and comfort at a halting place, "Cheer up, 
my dear madam. Whatever may be your trial, 
you have cause for great thankfulness to God, who 
has given you such a kind and attentive son." 

The change happily restored her to health, and 
she survived him several years. His ministry to 
Plymouth Church, Brooklyn (October 10, 1847 to 
March 8, 1887) covered a period of nearly forty 
years. An infant enterprise of twenty-one members 
when he came to it, it became under his ministry, 
the largest and the most notable church in the land, 
conspicuous not only for its size, but for its splendid 
munificence in charity and great achievements in 
every form of Christian enterprise. It is numbered 
among those few historical churches in our country 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

that have gained a world-wide reputation, due 
chiefly to the eclat and success of the work of their 
ministers. 

The ministry may be thought of as a kind of busi- 
ness, great in its aims and difficult of accomplish- 
ment. What were Mr. Beecher's personal equipment 
and spiritual capital for the important business 
now entered upon in which he was to achieve such 
splendid success? 

(1) A magnificent physique with perfect health. 
Dr. Barrows speaks of his "enormous physical 
vitality." Fowler, the phrenologist, called him "a 
splendid animal," and Dr. Abbott says, "vigor of 
health was characteristic of him all his life. He 
had a good digestion and an excellent nervous sys- 
tem." He inherited this fine strong physique from 
his paternal ancestors, two of whom had been black- 
smiths strong enough to pick up a barrel of cider 
and drink from its bunghole. Having such an inher- 
itance he took good care of it. He was temperate in 
diet and studied to take such food as was suited to 
his particular needs. He took daily outdoor exercise 
and was always a sound sleeper, and had the faculty 
of "throwing off cares and anxieties, whether they 
belonged to him or others, when he believed that 
further carrying them would do no good." 

(2) He had had a unique preparation or appren- 
ticeship for his business. In this apprenticeship 
were included not only the ten years spent in Law- 
renceburg and Indianapolis, with their varied expe- 
riences of life as then existing in those new Western 
towns, in editing horticultural and floricultural 

340 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

journals, and in lecturing, but the years of his 
seminary and college life, with their miscellaneous 
reading and atmosphere of theological discussion 
and doubts and perplexities, ending in the extra- 
ordinary spiritual visions of God and of Christ which 
had filled him with eagerness to tell men what he 
had seen and proved. In that varied experience and 
strenuous life his mental and spiritual powers had 
been wonderfully developed, and he had learned how 
to use and profit by them. 

(3) Extraordinary power of expression. Whatever 
aids expression — imagination, feeling, oratorical abil- 
ity — was his in largest measure. Charles Kingsley, 
hearing him some years later when in the maturity 
of his strength and preaching power, said: "Mr. 
Beecher has said the very things I have been trying 
to say ever since I entered the Christian pulpit." 
No thought, however profound, delicate, elusive, 
grand or beautiful surpassed his power of expression. 
It was equal to the clear and impressive utterance 
of whatever might come into his mind or stir his 
heart. "It is his transcendent gifts of expression, 
his diction," says Dr. Brastow, "that has won for him 
the title, 'The Shakespeare of the Modern Pulpit.' 
His nimbleness and fertility of mind, vividness of 
imagination and passionate intensity of feeling were 
all tributary to this linguistic faculty. He was an 
artist in speech. His diction is a distinct gift and he 
cultivated it with ceaseless assiduity. It is notable 
for its ease and affluence, its wealth and variety. 
It combines all the qualities of an effective pulpit 
style." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

(4) A voice of remarkable compass and melody. 
"His voice," says Dr. Cuyler, "was as sweet as a 
lute and as loud as a trumpet. In its tenderest 
pathos, that witching voice touched the fount of 
tears. When he rose into impassioned sublimity 
'they that heard him said that it thundered." 
This remarkable voice was not natural; it was the 
result of careful culture and training, which dated 
as far back as the Mt. Pleasant School of his boyhood, 
when he came under the instruction of Professor 
John Lovell, whose praise he never ceased to speak. 
When he was a child he had a serious defect in his 
speech, which made it almost unintelligible, so that 
his Aunt Esther said: "When Henry is sent to me 
with a message, I always have to make him say it 
three times. The first time, I have no manner of 
an idea, any more than if he spoke Choctaw; the 
second I catch now and then a word, and the third 
time I begin to understand." 

Dr. Lovell's training enabled him to get the 
better of this defect, and he studied continuously to 
perfect his voice and his mastery of it. 

(5) An extraordinary and peculiar genius to which 
he gave free play. He belonged to a peculiar family. 
Though himself the most richly endowed and dis- 
tinguished of them all, all of his father's children 
were persons of mark because of their rare natural 
gifts and ability. Another such family, so richly 
endowed and so eminent, each and all, can hardly 
be found in our American history. There was in 
him a peculiar personal strain, inherited partly 
from his father and mother, and partly original with 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

himself, which gave him the preeminence among 
his brethren as a preacher and made him eventually 
the prince of the American pulpit. It was a kind 
of prophetic capacity for inspiration and rare spir- 
itual exaltation. "I am what I am by the grace of 
God through my father and mother," he said. 
"I have my own peculiar temperament; I have my 
own method of preaching, I am intense at times on 
subjects that deeply move me. I feel as though all 
the oceans were not strong enough to be the power 
behind my words. There are times when it is not 
I that is talking, when I am caught up and carried 
away so that I know not whether I am in the body 
or out of the body, when I think things in the pulpit 
that I never could think of in my study, and when 
I have feelings that are so different from any that 
belong to the normal condition, that I can neither 
regulate nor understand them." 

It was through this peculiar religious genius that 
he sometimes spoke as if really inspired. "He 
seemed," Hon. Andrew D. White says, "to have a 
deep insight into the great truths of religion and to 
be able to present them to others, opening up at 
times great new vistas of truth by a single flash." 
At such times he exhibited a combination of pulpit 
power and charm scarcely equaled by any other 
preacher of his day. 

(6) Extraordinary fertility of mind. His mind 
was in itself a mine of wealth. Its opulence, apart 
from any enrichment it received from his studies 
and much reading, was marvelous. Upon any 
subject that he touched he had much of great value 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

to say. Mr. Lincoln spoke of him as "the most 
productive mind of ancient or modern times," and 
Dr. Joseph Parker in his eulogy of him said: "My 
sober impression is that Mr. Beecher could preach 
every Sunday in the year from the first verse in 
Genesis without giving any sign of intellectual 
exhaustion or any failure of imaginative force." 
Surely, this was an important item in his capital in 
view of the long ministry that lay before him in 
Brooklyn. It never failed him. To the very end 
he maintained the interest of his church and of the 
Christian public in his preaching. 

. (7) A natural style in preaching. His ordinary 
preaching was in the conversational style. "In a 
sense," says Dr. Abbott, "every sermon was a 
conversation with his audience. In the phrasing of 
it, always, in the figures employed, often in the 
structure of it, sometimes the audience took an uncon- 
scious part." His sermons were unwritten, except 
a few introductory sentences, which served "the 
purpose of shoving him off into deep water," as 
McLaren says of a similar practice of his own. His 
preaching was topical rather than textual. "A 
text," he says, "is like a gate; some ministers swing 
back and forth upon it. I push it open and go in." 
His topics, such as "The Hidden Christ," "What 
Christ is to Me," "The Crime of Degrading Men," 
were topics adapted to his peculiar temperament. 
He followed a carefully prepared outline, usually 
rapidly sketched Sabbath morning. But those 
few Sabbath hours by no means represented all the 
work he put upon his sermons. They, with the 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

time occupied in delivering his sermon, represented 
only what may be called his creative work. He was 
a constant student in his own way. Scores of his 
notebooks, filled with thoughts and points for ser- 
mons, prove this. The sermons themselves, with 
their evidences of careful study and extensive survey 
of the fields of thought treated, prove it. The fact 
is, that before the Sabbath his mind was carefully 
stored with the materials for his sermons, and these 
he was able, through his remarkable powers of con- 
centration and productive effort, quickly to crys- 
tallize into a suitable form, or plan, and vitalize for 
effective delivery. He was unique in his method 
as well as his genius, and is not a safe example for 
any other man except in the general spirit of his 
work. It was "a singular feature of his productive 
power," we are told, "that it seldom lasted more 
than two or three hours." But in those two or 
three hours, on Sabbath morning, before and during 
the public service, which stimulated and exalted his 
powers to the utmost, he performed wonders. 

Such a style in preaching, unfettered, conversa- 
tional, free from artificial monotonous declamation, 
brings the preacher close to his hearers, keeps them 
wide-awake and makes the preacher vividly dramatic 
as well as more genuine and lifelike in his speech. 
It is the style of the best preachers. In the case of 
Mr. Beecher with his fine flexible voice, his imagi- 
native power, and natural ease upon the platform, 
it was carried almost to perfection. As he warmed 
to his work and his soul was kindled to a blaze by 
his theme, he became transfigured. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

(8) Joyousness of spirit. Mr. Beecher in his 
ministry felt himself to be a messenger of good tid- 
ings. It was a natural consequence of that 
wonderful vision in which God was revealed to him 
as a loving father and Christ as a potential daily 
friend. God was to him a perpetual presence; he 
lived in the sunshine of his countenance; he walked 
in the companionship of Jesus Christ, and he believed 
and taught that the same privilege was offered to his 
hearers. Therefore his preaching was a message of 
hope to the despondent, and of good cheer to the 
sad-hearted. Similar was the effect of his public 
prayers. These were as remarkable as his sermons. 
In them he voiced the spiritual aspirations, the 
adoration and the conscious needs of his hearers as 
few preachers ever did or could do. He carried 
them into the felt presence of God, and their souls 
were purified and strengthened by the visions they 
had of his grace and glory. For years those public 
prayers were reported by an excellent stenographer 
and published with his sermons in the Christian 
Union. Subsequently a selection of them was 
published in book form. Dr. Abbott says: "If there 
is any collection of prayers which surpasses these 
prayers of Mr. Beecher in spiritual eloquence, in 
the self -revelation of childlikeness of heart and fa- 
miliarity of fellowship with the Everlasting Father, 
and in understanding and interpretation of the wants, 
simple and complex, superficial and profound, of 
the human heart, I have not seen it." From such 
sermons and prayers, his hearers went forth from 
the service radiant with hope and trust. A gifted 

346 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

lady of his congregation says of the mood in which 
she usually left Plymouth Church: "The sun was 
always shining for me whatever the weather." 

(9) An evangelical passion for bringing men to God 
through faith in Christ. Under the stimulous of 
this passion he was unwearied and tireless in his 
labors. At one time in his ministry, in Indiana- 
polis, "he preached seventy nights in succession." 
Through the incitement of it, his first years as pastor 
of Plymouth Church were full of religious activity, 
and the joy of ingathering was great for both pastor 
and people. 

(10) The last item I speak of in my summary of 
Mr. Beecher's equipment for the great business of 
ministering to Plymouth Church, upon which he 
entered at his coming to Brooklyn, was good sense. 
His genius was not marred or crippled by the pro- 
verbial eccentricities of genius. Though one of the 
most brilliant of men, he was sane, temperate and 
judicious in his utterances. He had the mark of a 
wise man, which the homely conundrum, that asks 
"why such a man is like a pin?" gives in its answer 
to the question. "Because his head keeps him 
from going too far." It kept him from going too 
far in the heated discussion that arose in the anti- 
slavery agitation preceding the Civil War, in the 
general anxiety and perplexity over the policy of 
government during the war and in the debate over 
the settlement of the question of the Reconstruction 
period. In those discussions his opinions and 
utterances were those of a wise and calm statesman . 
Such likewise were his opinions and counsels upon 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

the various civic and ethical questions which con- 
cern society and individuals. 

His good sense was manifest also in his not ven- 
turing to rely too much upon his inventive genius 
and ready eloquence and such happy productive 
moods as might come to him in preaching. "No 
man can preach well," he said, "except out of an 
abundance of well-wrought material." And so, as 
Dr. Barrows says, "he was always industriously 
filling in or getting his accumulations into shape, 
vitalizing them with conscious and unconscious 
thought." 

Having such an equipment for his work, we now 
are to think of him entering upon this great work at 
thirty -four years of age. Though his stock of sys- 
tematic theology was small, for reasons that have 
been given, he knew by heart what was most essen- 
tial in the theology of a preacher and he knew well 
how to use it. He believed that "no man lives who 
does not need to repent of sin and turn from it"; 
"that turning from sin is a work so deep and diffi- 
cult that no man will ever change except by the help 
of God"; that "the Gospel is the power of God unto 
salvation"; that "in the person and work of Christ 
this power is centered," and that "success in preach- 
ing depends on the power of the preacher to put 
before men the Lord Jesus Christ." 

"The new preacher," Dr. Abbott says, "at first 
drew but moderate congregations. Not until after 
six months did the church building begin to fill so as 
to be crowded, but from that time on it was unable 
to accommodate the congregations." People came 

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HENRY WARD BEECHER 

to hear him from all parts of Brooklyn, from New 
York on the other side of East River, and from all 
parts of the land. For more than a quarter of a 
century it was common for people coming to New 
York for business or pleasure and spending the Sab- 
bath in the city, to cross the ferries to Brooklyn to 
hear Beecher, and if, on stepping off from the ferry- 
boat, these strangers asked a policeman the way to 
Plymouth Church, the answer usually received was: 
"Follow the crowd." 

It was the writer's great privilege as a young man 
often to hear him in Plymouth Church and to share 
the feelings and impressions there made upon the 
great throng by this remarkable preacher then in 
the zenith of his power and fame. I wish I could 
give my readers some just conception of his elo- 
quence. But no description can convey it. Even 
his sermons, as reported by the best of stenographers 
can give but a most inadequate idea of it. "The 
difference between the sermon as he preaches it," 
Dr. Storrs once truthfully said, "and the sermon as 
it is printed and published to be read afterward, is 
like that of fireworks as they appear at night in all 
their brilliance and glory and the blackened smoking 
framework which the boys stare at the next morn- 
ing." In the last chapter of Dr. Abbott's interesting 
book, "Henry Ward Beecher" there is an interesting 
and instructive comparison of Beecher's pulpit and 
oratorical power with that of other great preachers 
and pulpit orators. Dr. Abbott says: "In particular 
elements of charm or power he was surpassed by 
some; in combination of charm and power by none. 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

If the test of the oration (or sermon) is its perfection, 
whether of structure or of expression, other orators 
have surpassed Mr. Beecher; if the test is the power 
of the speaker to impart to his audience his life, to 
impress on them his conviction, animate them with 
his purpose, and direct their action to the accom- 
plishment of his end, then Mr. Beecher was the 
greatest orator I ever heard; and, in my judgment, 
whether measured by the immediate or the perma- 
nent effects of his addresses, takes his place in the 
rank of the great orators of the world.' ' 

The Plymouth Church pastorate of Mr. Beecher 
may be conveniently divided into three periods: 
the ante-bellum period with its intense excitements 
growing out of the agitation of the subject of slavery, 
in which Mr. Beecher took a prominent part as 
preacher, platform speaker, and editor; the period 
of the Civil War, when his fame as a preacher and 
orator was at its maximum; and the period covered 
by and following the Tilton scandal with its dire 
effects upon his reputation and influence. 

Eloquence is dependent upon the man, the occa- 
sion and the theme of speech. It is not enough for 
its highest exhibition that a man have all the gifts 
and accomplishments of the orator to the highest 
degree. There must be worthy occasions and topics 
to stimulate the man to the utmost. Slavery and 
its aggressions and wrongs furnished Mr. Beecher 
these occasions and topics. From the time he went 
to Brooklyn to the outbreak of the Civil War, the 
atmosphere of our country was heated and stifling 
and reverberant with the signs of the gathering 

350 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

tempest. Beecher's whole soul with all his magnifi- 
cent powers of conscience and love of righteousness, 
hatred of wrong, imaginative sympathy and generous 
sensibilities, were stirred and enlisted in the conflict 
of opinion. He was irresistible in his advocacy of 
the cause of the slave and in his plea for his eman- 
cipation. Even those who supported slavery and 
were strongly biased by its commercial interests 
were subdued to better sentiments when they came 
under the spell of his eloquence. Dr. Abbott gives 
this striking instance: "It is 1858. A Southern 
slaveholder is at my side. The preacher has declared, 
as he often did, that he has no will to interfere with 
slavery in the States. No wish to stir up insurrec- 
tion and discontent in the slave. But he will not 
obey the Fugitive Slave Law. Thereupon he pic- 
tures the discontented slave escaping, portrays him 
stealthily creeping out from his log cabin at night; 
seeking a shelter in the swamp, feeding on its roots 
and berries, pursued by baying bloodhounds; 
making his way toward liberty, the north star his 
only guide; reaching the banks of the Ohio river; 
crossing it to find the Fugitive Slave Law spread 
like a net to catch him. And I see the fugitive, and 
hear the hounds and my own heart beats with his 
hopes and fears; and then the preacher cries: 'Has 
he a right to flee? If he were my son and did not 
seek liberty I would write across his name 'Dis- 
owned,' " and he writes it with his finger as he 
speaks, and I see the letters of flaming fire; and the 
slaveholder at my side catches his breath while he 
nods an involuntary assent; and as we walk out 

351 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

together he says: "I could not agree with all he said, 
but it was great, and he is a good man." 

The second period in Mr. Beecher's Brooklyn 
pastorate, that of the Civil War, was marked by two 
extraordinary efforts : He first endeavored by tongue 
and pen to bring public opinion up to the point of 
demanding the abolishment of slavery, which was 
done by President Lincoln's Emancipation Procla- 
mation of January, 1863. To us at this distance, it 
does not seem possible that this could have required 
any extraordinary effort. Had not slavery caused 
the war with all its cost of blood and treasure? Was 
it anything other than a just retribution upon the 
Confederate States in rebellion, to destroy the hate- 
ful institution that had wrought such mischief? 
Furthermore, it was demanded as a wise war meas- 
ure. As long as the President stayed his hand from 
signing the proclamation that set the slaves free, 
those slaves were made the unwilling but valuable 
helpers of the rebellion. They tilled the fields and 
raised the crops that supported its armies in the 
field. They were their body servants and teamsters 
and the custodians of their homes, while their masters 
were battling at the front to resist and destroy the 
United States government. Strike off their fetters 
and proclaim their freedom and they would become 
the government's helpers, reinforce its armies and 
otherwise render it invaluable service. 

But these considerations, so obvious to us now, 
were strangely inoperative then. The Union states- 
men and the President himself were slow to perceive 
their force and act accordingly. It required an 

352 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

immense volume of argument and a flood of eloquent 
exhortation from those who appreciated the situa- 
tion to bring about the decree of liberty to the slave. 
And Beecher was foremost among those whose 
voices pleaded for it, and at length prevailed. 

The second extraordinary effort was put forth by 
Mr. Beecher while visiting England for needed rest 
in the fall of 1863, in the endeavor to create there a 
sentiment favorable to the North, to counteract the 
influence of Confederate emissaries and the English 
aristocracy in behalf of the South. This influence 
had become so powerful that the English government 
was more than half inclined to join Louis Napoleon, 
the French Emperor, in an act of forcible interven- 
tion for the recognition of the Confederate States. 
It wavered, because the English common people as 
distinguished from the higher classes, sympathized 
with the North. But the sufferings of the common 
people, produced by our great war through the sus- 
pension or stagnation of the great industries by 
which they earned their support, were chillingly 
discouraging these sympathies as year after year 
went by without ending the war and bringing them 
relief. When Beecher arrived there, on his way 
home after some weeks of recuperation and rest on 
the continent, the American cause was wavering in 
the balance; the critical moment, in fact, had come, 
and he was importuned by the friends of our country 
to speak on the issues of the war. Their entreaties 
prevailed, though he had thrice before refused, in 
the belief that any effort he might make would 
prove vain, and arrangements were made for a series 

23 353 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

of speeches at Manchester, Glasgow, Edinburgh, 
Liverpool and London. 

No sooner was the announcement made than the 
Rebel sympathizers planned to thwart his purpose 
and prevent his being heard by vociferous interrup- 
tions and noise, by capturing, in short, the meetings 
advertized and turning them to their own advantage. 
"So long as physical violence is not resorted to," says 
Abbott, "this sort of tactics seems to be treated in 
England as a legitimate part of the game." Blood- 
red placards were posted in the streets of the cities 
where he was to speak. They called upon the mob 
to prevent his speaking by misreporting, his past 
utterances and by gross libels of his character and 
purpose. No wonder that he was in an agony of 
depression before he entered upon his task and spent 
most of the morning on his knees. Like Jacob he 
wrestled with God, and like him he prevailed, so 
that before going to the meeting in Manchester "a 
great sense of repose" was given him. We will not 
undertake to describe each meeting nor is it neces- 
sary. He encountered a similar experience in them 
all. "It was like talking to a storm at sea," he 
says of his address at Manchester; and of his address 
at Liverpool, where the uproar was greatest and 
most prolonged, where for an hour and a half he 
fought the mob before he got control, "I sometimes 
felt," he says, "like a shipmaster attempting to 
preach on board of a ship through a speaking 
trumpet, with a tornado on the sea and a mutiny 
among the men." 

Not to prolong our account, suffice it to say that 

354 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

in every one of those five places he gained the mas- 
tery over his audience by his wit, his good-natured 
patience, his artful and subduing eloquence, and 
compelled them to hear him. The addresses were 
fully reported and widely published by the English 
press. Such unity pervaded them that they seemed 
like one connected speech and they presented and 
vindicated the cause of the North so well that the 
thought of intervention was abandoned. "Prob- 
ably," says Mark Hopkins, "the world has seen no 
grander instance of the ascendency of eloquence and 
of the personal power of a single man, and he a 
foreigner, in the face of prejudiced and excited 
mobs." 

When Mr. Beecher returned to America, he re- 
ceived such an ovation as few American citizens 
ever received from their grateful countrymen. Well 
had it been for his happiness and perhaps for his 
fame if then he had died in the fifty-first year of his 
age. But for his purification he must needs pass 
through a fiery furnace, in the heat and anguish of 
which he wished for death a thousand times before 
that boon was granted him. This brings us to the 
third notable epoch of his Brooklyn pastorate, — 
that covered by the Tilton scandal and its dire effects 
for a time upon his good name. We do not propose 
to enter upon a rehearsal of this strange and mys- 
terious affair. It remains still an unsolved mystery, 
and perhaps always will remain so. If any one is 
curious to learn all that is now known about it, he 
can turn to the twelfth chapter of Abbott's book, 
or the fuller account given by Dr. Barrows' volume 

355 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

(chapters 37-40). The writer's opinion is that there 
was no truth in the charges made against him. He 
holds this opinion because of the published state- 
ment of Mr. Wm. A. Beach, Tilton's counsel: "I 
had not been four days on the trial before I was con- 
fident that he was innocent"; because Judge Neilson, 
who presided at this trial, was of this opinion; 
because of all the writer saw and heard as a member 
of the celebrated Plymouth Church council sum- 
moned to review the case after it had been passed 
upon by the courts, and which, after the fullest 
investigation, unanimously pronounced him still 
worthy of confidence as a Christian minister; and 
because his own church, the great Plymouth Church, 
whose charities and honorable men are widely 
known, remained steadfast in its confidence, solidly 
and unitedly so, to the end of his life. This could 
not have been so, and never is the case, where there 
is any good ground of suspicion that the minister, 
who is accused of this particular sin alleged against 
him, is guilty. For these reasons, and for the psy- 
chological reason that the writer repeatedly attended 
Plymouth Church during that period, and heard 
Mr. Beecher's public prayers, and could not believe 
it possible for a man to pray as he did if that man 
were an immoral man, or a hypocrite — he, therefore, 
agrees with Dr. Lyman Abbott in saying: "Person- 
ally I believe that future history will attach as little 
emphasis to this episode in the life of Beecher as 
history now attaches to analogous imputations, with 
far more to give them color, brought against John 
Wesley in his lifetime." 

356 



HENRY WARD BEECHER 

What now, in conclusion, shall we say of him? 
Not that he was a perfect man; he had unquestion- 
ably his faults — trivial faults, however — faults which 
he himself confessed and deplored more than did his 
friends; but they were the faults of a great man, 
whose greatness so impresses us that we are in- 
clined to forget or condone these faults. He was also 
a large-hearted, broad-minded, good man, whose 
goodness remains unimpeachable in spite of the dark 
cloud which for a while cast its shadow upon him. 
It is safe to say that people of candor generally 
believe this. Striking evidence of it is to be seen 
there in Brooklyn, where he lived for nearly forty 
years and was best known. As the people filed past 
his coffin in Plymouth Church, "the suggestion was 
made," says Dr. Abbott, "that a statue should be 
erected by citizens of Brooklyn to his memory. In 
less than two weeks after his death, a meeting of 
citizens was held to forward this movement, and it 
was so largely attended that many were unable to 
gain admittance to the room. The money for the 
purpose was easily obtained, rather it should be 
said, was spontaneously offered, and in June, 1891, 
the statue, designed by J. Q. A. Ward, was erected 
in City Hall Square, facing the building where he 
had been put on trial as for his life, and remaining 
there a perpetual witness to the judgment of the 
citizens of Brooklyn between him and his accusers." 

It presents a good likeness of the man, as he ap- 
peared in his later years. It seems appropriate that 
it should stand in that crowded city square sur- 
rounded by all sorts and conditions of men, for whom 

357 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

his great heart beat in sympathy. He was a man 
of the people and lived for them. One may easily 
imagine those lips of bronze softening to flexible 
flesh and speaking once more in the tones of that 
"witching voice," which entranced men so often 
for their good. The memories of his compassion for 
the poor and oppressed, and of his terrific scorn for 
all unrighteous, conscienceless scoundrels, whom no 
appeal of weakness or misery can move to pity or 
compunction, it is good for men to have revived. 
They make this place a place for repentance and the 
beginning of a new life to some; to others a place of 
gratitude for God's gift of good men to this sin- 
stricken earth. Dr. Barrows says rightly, that 
Lowell's characterization of Lincoln "was equally 
true of Mr. Beecher." 

"His was no lonely mountain peak of mind, 



Broad prairie rather, genial, level-lined, 
Fruitful and friendly to all human kind, 
Yet also nigh to heaven, and loved of loftiest stars." 



358 



X 

PHILLIPS BROOKS 



X 

PHILLIPS BROOKS 

1835-1893 

In an interesting comparison of Henry Ward 
Beecher and Phillips Brooks as preachers, Dr. 
Lyman Abbott says: "I should describe Phillips 
Brooks as the greater preacher, but Mr. Beecher 
as the greater orator"; the distinctive function of 
the preacher being, in his opinion, "the unveiling 
of the invisible world, looking himself and enabling 
others also to look upon the things which are unseen 
and eternal." This was the exclusive mission of 
Phillips Brooks and in the fulfillment of this he is 
unsurpassed, Dr. Abbott thinks, by any American 
preacher. In this opinion we agree with him after 
a careful study of Brooks' life and ministry. 

He was the second son, in a family of six boys, of 
William Gray Brooks and Mary Ann Phillips. He 
owed much to his parents, both of whom belonged 
to the best and most distinguished of the old New 
England families. "The consummate flower of nine 
generations of cultured Puritan stock," Dr. Brastow 
says. ("Representative Modern Preachers.") We 
can recall no public man of the last century who 
outranks him in this respect of ancestral worth. 
A long line of ancestors, eminent for piety, culture, 
learning, wealth and high social position, he was 

361 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

able to look back upon from both sides of his parental 
house. It is an interesting genealogical history which 
is presented to us in the first chapter of his "Life" 
by Professor Allen, his biographer — one replete with 
profitable suggestions and numerous anecdotes. 

Phillips Brooks united in his own person and 
character the most remarkable traits and qualities 
of both parents. It was indeed a rich inheritance 
which he derived from them. 

A friend of Phillips Brooks has given us the fol- 
lowing account of them and of what they each be- 
queathed to their gifted son. "Mr. Brooks (the 
father) always gave me the notion of a typical 
Boston merchant, solid, upright, unimaginative, 
unemotional. Mrs. Brooks gave me the notion of a 
woman of an intense emotional nature; the very 
tones of her voice vibratory with feeling and deep 
spiritual life — the temperament of genius and the 
saintly character. I felt that Phillips Brooks owed 
to his father very much — the businesslike and or- 
derly habit; the administrative faculty which worked 
so easily; the clear logical understanding (combined 
with powers of clear conception and statement) 
that framed so well the skeletons of those sermons, 
which the intuitive reason, the active imagination, 
the literary sense, the spiritual fire (qualities derived 
from his mother) so richly filled out and inspired 
afterwards; and the strong common sense that no 
fervor of feeling, no passionate outburst of soul, 
could ever sweep from its anchorage. But I never 
had a question that what made Phillips Brooks a 
prophet, a leader, a power among men, was from 

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PHILLIPS BROOKS 

the Phillips (the mother's) side of the family. The 
stalwart form, the big heart, the shapely head, the 
changeful countenance, the voice that so easily grew 
tremulous with feeling, the eager look and gesture, 
the magnetism, the genius seemed to me, and I be- 
lieve seemed to him, his mother's. The father saw 
things as they were; she saw things in vision, ideally 
as they should be. So Phillips Brooks knew the 
facts of life, seeing with his father's eyes, and all the 
hopes and possibilities of life through the eyes of 
his mother." 

His biographer, commenting upon this fusion of 
the qualities of both parents in his personality, 
adds: "Had he received by transmission only the 
outlook of his father, without the inspired heroism 
of his mother, he would not have risen to greatness. 
But, on the other hand, had he inherited from his 
mother alone, he might have been known as an 
ardent reformer, not unlike his kinsman Wendell 
Phillips, but the wonderful fascination of his power 
for men of every class and degree, the universal 
appeal to a common humanity, would have been 
wanting." 

Phillips Brooks was almost as fortunate in his 
birthplace as in his parentage. Boston at that time 
was, more than now, the highest seat of culture and 
refinement in our country. Its atmosphere was 
magnetic and stimulating from the social and public 
influences generated by its historic memories, its 
eminent citizens, its civic privileges, its constellation 
of brilliant authors, its enterprising publishing 
houses, its superior schools, libraries and educational 

363 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

advantages, its distinguished preachers and flourish- 
ing churches. All these advantages to the highest 
degree were enjoyed by Phillips Brooks through the 
high social position of his parents. Possessed of 
ample means they lavished upon their sons every 
educational advantage that could contribute to their 
welfare, besides devoting themselves at home to their 
happiness and culture. He was educated at Boston's 
famous Latin School and at Harvard College, receiv- 
ing from the former excellent instruction and train- 
ing in the principles of English Composition and 
the Ancient Classics, and at college having a taste 
for literature developed which he gratified by wide 
and diligent reading. He read with extraordinary 
speed. He was endowed, like Macaulay, with a 
marvelous gift of very rapidly taking in a printed 
page. "His record as a student,'' his biographer 
says, "shows that he possessed the capacity for 
exact scholarship, but also that he had no ambition 
to maintain a high rank in his class. He stood 
thirteenth in a class of sixty-six. He took his college 
course easily. He gave the impression of one who 
was not obliged to drudge in order to master his 
studies." His thorough training, his quick insight, 
his capacity for mental concentration enabled him to 
perform with ease and speed the required task, 
leaving him abundant leisure for discursive reading, 
the mastery of books, and the observation of life." 
"He gave no sign of being an orator. When he 
became known in after years as a pulpit orator, 
those who remembered him in his college days were 
surprised." But he disclosed in those college days 

364 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

uncommon ability as a writer. "In the occasional 
papers (presented to 'The Hasty Pudding' and the 
A. A. <E>. college societies of which he was a member), 
where he chose his own subject and was in sympathy 
with his audience, free to give full expression to 
his thought, his wit, or humor, he was unsurpassed." 
Having thus sketched his mental development, 
it remains to speak of his spiritual and religious devel- 
opment. His mother was his first and most impor- 
tant religious teacher. "Phillips Brooks' mother," 
says Dr. W. N. Clarke, "was one of the most reli- 
gious of the religious, intense, conscientious, self- 
sacrificing, rapturous. Few men have ever known 
such mother-love as embraced this son so long as 
his mother lived." She was a woman of extraordi- 
nary piety. She possessed all the fervor of a primi- 
tive Methodist, united with the intelligence and 
keen spiritual perception of the descendant of a 
long line of the most learned of the New England 
divines. "She had a deep interior life of the soul 
whose phases were more real and vital than the 
phenomena of the passing world. Religion to her 
was a life in Christ, and her love for Christ and his 
truth was a passion. She was a diligent student 
of the Bible and its teaching, that she might better 
teach her children. In this task of teaching her 
children religion she was diligent and indefatigable, 
laboring with a concentrated purpose in season 
and out of season, never for a moment forgetful of 
her mission, quick to seize the passing moment 
which seemed fertile for opportunity, but withal 
gentle and alluring and making religion attractive." 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

She showed remarkable wisdom in her religious 
teaching and effort to win her sons one by one to 
a personal self -commitment to the Christian life. 
"She studied her opportunities of approach to the 
soul," Professor Allen says. She knew when to 
speak and when to keep silent, careful not to press 
them, in her zeal, to the point of disgust and repul- 
sion of the subject which she was so earnest to have 
them consider. To an anxious mother she once said, 
"There is an age when it is not well to follow or 
question your boy too closely. Up to that time 
you may carefully instruct and direct him; as you 
are his best friend. He is never happy unless the 
story of the day has been told; you must hear about 
his friends, his school; all that interests him must 
be your interest. Suddenly these confidences cease; 
the affectionate son becomes reserved and silent; 
he seeks the intimate friendship of other lads; he 
goes out; he is averse to telling where he is going or 
how long he will be gone. He comes in and goes 
silently to his room. All this is a startling change 
to the mother; but it is also her opportunity to 
practice wisdom by loving and praying for and 
absolutely trusting her son. The faithful instruc- 
tion and careful training during his early years the 
son can never forget. Therefore trust not only your 
heavenly Father, but your son. The period of 
which I speak appears to me to be one in which the 
boy dies and the man is born; his individuality 
rises up before him, and he is dazed and almost 
overwhelmed by his first consciousness of himself. 
I have always believed that it was then that the 

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PHILLIPS BROOKS 

Creator was speaking with my sons, and that it 
was good for their souls to be left alone with him, 
while I, their mother, stood trembling, praying and 
waiting, knowing that when the man was developed 
from the boy I should have my sons again and there 
would be a deeper sympathy than ever between us." 

Happily her efforts were warmly assisted by her 
husband and her pastor, Dr. A. H. Vinton, the 
minister of St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Boston, 
which they made their religious home when Phillips 
was four years old, they having previously attended 
the First Church (Unitarian). 

Upon his graduation from Harvard, Phillips 
Brooks, then not twenty years old, obtained the 
appointment of usher, or subordinate teacher, in 
the Boston Latin School. He had not made any 
public profession of religion then and had no inclina- 
tion to become a preacher of the gospel. His plan 
was, after gaining some experience in teaching in 
the Latin School, to go abroad for further study and 
fit himself for a college professorship. But "though 
man proposes God disposes": never was there a 
more striking example of this truth. His experi- 
ment in teaching proved an utter and most humiliat- 
ing failure, and he resigned his position in a few 
months. The cause of his failure was his inability 
to maintain good order among the unruly, rowdyish 
set of boys placed under him. He was made of too 
gentle stuff to cope successfully with those turbulent 
spirits. 

After a season of uncertainty and bewilderment 
he turned his thoughts to the Christian ministry, 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

and entered the Episcopal Theological School in 
Alexandria, Va., not yet having received confirma- 
tion, by which in the Episcopal Church its adherents 
publicly profess their faith. This act was delayed 
until the close of his first year in the seminary, in- 
dicating how abruptly he had entered upon his 
studies for the ministry. He apparently fled (se- 
cretly) to the seminary to hide his shame. But 
though he had made no public profession of faith, 
we have a signal proof that he was not without 
faith, in the words preserved for us by Professor 
Allen, "with which he closed the record of his 
thoughts on the eve of his departure for Virginia" : 

"As we pass from some experience to some experi- 
ment, from a tried to an untried life, it is as when we 
turn to a new page in a book we have never read before, 
but whose author we know and love and trust to give 
us on every page words of counsel and purity and 
strengthening virtue" 

He did not find the Theological School pleasant 
or satisfactory. It was a poor, ill-furnished, meagerly 
equipped institution. Writing to his father soon 
after his arrival he said: "It is the most shiftless, 
slipshod place I ever saw. The instruction here is 
very poor. All that we get in the lecture and recita- 
tion-rooms I consider worth just nothing." There 
was on the Faculty only one man of mark and ability 
in teaching, Dr. Sparrow, and he "so out of health 
that we seldom see him and when we do he is too 
unwell to exert himself at all." The library he 
describes as "worth just nothing at all, pretty much 
like all the rest of the seminary, which seems poorer 

368 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

and poorer to me every day." Finally he says near 
the end of the first year: "I have serious doubts 
whether it will be worth while for me to come back 
here for two more years, whether it won't be better 
to study at home, if this is really the best seminary 
in the country." He would have found Andover a 
far better seminary, where was a staff of very able 
theological instructors and a kind of teaching vastly 
superior; and near the end of the year he writes 
to his father: "I am thinking strongly of Andover, 
please let me know what you think of it." For some 
inexplicable reason he did not go to Andover, which, 
in addition to its strong Faculty, on which were 
Professors Park, Phelps, and Shedd, then in their 
meridian glory, and a well-furnished library and other 
inviting conveniences, possessed the additional rec- 
ommendation of having been established and en- 
dowed by his maternal ancestors. 

The scheme was not favored it seems by his pastor, 
Dr. Vinton, or his father, and probably it was quite 
as well for him to stay in Alexandria. The defects 
in his seminary curriculum and teaching, says his 
biographer, "forced him to work for himself, to take 
his theological education in a measure into his own 
hand," and this self -education proved better in his 
case probably than the best teaching he could have 
received from the ablest theological faculty. It 
begot in him independence of mind and habits of 
solitary thought and study, of free investigation 
and diligent reading that were of the greatest value. 

The students of the seminary also, in the lack of 
competent teachers, gave to themselves a teaching 

24 369 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

and drill in their clubs and societies that was in some 
respects superior to anything they could have found 
in the classroom or private instruction of the best 
professor. They criticized one another with a 
freedom and justice and wholesome severity which 
would have been called harsh and cruel in him. 
Two examples are given in Professor Allen's life of 
Brooks: There was among the students a young 
man of sonorous voice and showy physique, but 
meagre attainments, who met with small success 
in his essays at preaching. He asked, "why, with 
his fine presence and striking elocution, he made no 
better impression as a preacher?" "Why," an- 
swered a classmate, "you don't know enough. You 
don't study enough. You are too noisy. Perhaps 
if you'd take more load on your cart, it would not 
rattle so." 

Another example is one where a sermon of Brooks 
himself was the subject of criticism. It was his 
first sermon, on the text, "The simplicity that is in 
Christ," 2 Cor. 11:3. "A cruel classmate's criti- 
cism," he says, "was that there was very little sim- 
plicity in the sermon and no Christ." He adds, "The 
sermon was never preached again. It was an at- 
tempt to define doctrine instead of to show a man, 
a God, a Savior." 

By his professors and fellow students Mr. Brooks 
was quickly recognized as a star of first magnitude. 
"As a classical scholar," says a classmate, "none 
matched him. The Greek of the New Testament 
Epistles, as he dealt with it, 'rejoiced like Enoch in 
being translated.' " His rare gifts as a writer were 

370 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

manifest in his earliest essays. The style had the 
grace of the after-sernlons, a nameless quality that 
made some of us feel that we must begin over again. 
The same with the thought. It never seemed like 
yours or what might come in time to be yours. 
The only cheering thing about it was that it sur- 
prised the professors. There was some comfort in 
hearing Dr. Sparrow say: "Mr. Brooks is very 
remarkable"; and "that he recognized in him a 
pupil who needed none of his instruction." The 
late Dr. W. N. Clarke thus briefly sums up the work 
done by Phillips Brooks at the theological seminary 
in Alexandria: "In the three years that he spent 
there his first conscious and well-directed work was 
done. The seminary was so little absorbing that 
he took his own way and it was the way of reading. 
His reading was enormous in amount and very wide 
in range. He sought to lay hold upon the best 
that the human mind had done, and to make it his 
own."* 

One practice observed by him in the seminary 
preserves the record of his reading and its wide 
range, that contributed greatly to his development 
of mind. He never was without a note-book, to 
record the books he read, to preserve extracts from 
them that he deemed especially notable and worth 
preserving, and the thoughts of his own suggested 
by them. These thoughts are upon every variety 
of subject, and possess an originality, a depth, wis- 
dom and value that are most remarkable. Many of 
them are equal to the ideas and reflections of his 

* See Art. Huxley and Phillips Brooks. Bib. Sac, Jan. 1902, Vol. 59. 

371 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

best days. As an exercise, it was of inestimable 
value in developing his powers of independent 
thought, and training him to the clear and easy 
expression of his thought. "One of the most impor- 
tant features of the note-books," Professor Allen 
points out, "is the intimations they contain of a 
profound conception of the scheme of things, 
wrought out by an isolated student in much inward 
perturbation with no assistance from his teachers. 
When Phillips Brooks left home for the theological 
seminary, he provided himself in advance with these 
books, in anticipation of the service they would 
render. When he reached his new abode, and found 
himself among strangers, in an inconvenient room, 
with a bed too short for him, with no 'arm chair' 
or any of the comforts and conveniences of life, 
with only the light afforded by a tallow candle, 
he sat down at the earliest moment to his self-imposed 
task and continued the work of registering his 
thoughts. He divided his note-book in two equal 
parts, the first for holding remarks of others worth 
copying, hints and suggestions from his reading, 
stray bits of information, all the items in short for 
a miscellaneous commonplace-book. In the second 
half he wrote down the thoughts which were his 
own. It is worth mentioning that he filled out the 
second half of the book long before the first, and 
went back to fill the empty pages with the ideas 
that were coming thick and fast." 

"The first thing which impresses one in turning 
over these note-books is the capacity shown for 
high scholarship. Greek and Latin were no longer 

372 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

dead languages, but were at his disposal. . . . 
Thus in the first few months after he reached the 
seminary, we find him reading Herodotus and Aes- 
chylus, and among Latin writers, Plautus, Lucretius, 
and Lucan; of ecclesiastical writers, Augustine, 
Tertullian and the venerable Bede. Tertullian 
attracted with him a singular charm, as though he 
found in that vehement, passionate soul something 
akin to his own moods. From all these writers 
he was making extracts, sometimes in the original, 
or translating as an exercise for the mastery of the 
language. Schiller's 'Wallenstein' also attracted 
him and he kept up his French by reading Saint 
Pierre's 'Etudes de la Nature.' He had special 
qualifications for such work in his gift for languages. 

"Next to the study of the classics and early eccle- 
siastical writers comes his devotion to English litera- 
ture. He was reading so many books during his 
first year in the seminary that one marvels how he 
found time for the required tasks of daily recitations." 
Professor Allen names thirty-four English authors 
"into whom he is dipping at will, from whom also he 
is making extracts in his note-books. The quota- 
tions he copies reveal the character of his mind; 
and there is disclosed here a veritable hunger to 
know the best thought of the world." 

"The note-books indicate that in his reading he 
kept his eye upon one incidental object, the accumu- 
lation of ideas, of pithy phrases, or epigrammatic 
statements, and above all of similes and comparisons. 
These he puts down in condensed form as so much 
material for future use. There are many hundreds 

373 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

of similes collected here, which afterwards reappeared 
in his preaching." 

His biographer states that in all his reading and 
thinking he had one particular aim of supreme 
importance. It was "to trace the connection between 
ideas and principles of conduct, between theological 
dogmas and the actual life of the soul, to show how 
they ministered to the growth of a man in righteous- 
ness of character. Confronted as he was with 
doctrines and dogmas, whose acceptance was re- 
garded as important, he asked for their nexus with 
the human will, or with the reason and the feeling 
that led as motives to the action of the will." If 
he found no connection he called them "theological 
dry rot." "There was another thought," says 
Professor Allen, "much in his mind and finding 
frequent expression, which was to become one of 
his ruling ideas — that truth had many aspects, that 
what failed to bring one man strength or consolation 
might to another be the source of joy and peace. 
To condemn another man's belief or to sneer at it 
was madness": "Poor feeble creatures in a feeble 
world, we each must catch what is most comfort 
to his feebleness. Believe in mine for me, I will 
believe in yours for you. Surely we each have 
quite enough to do to hold our own, without this 
cruel folly of saying to another, 'Your comfort is a 
cheat, your hope a heresy, the earnest life you are 
living a lie.' " 

"Now and then," says Dr. Allen, "but rarely, he 
jots down in his note-book some item gained from 
his teachers. Whatever help by way of suggestion 

374 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

and inspiration was afforded by Dr. Sparrow, yet 
the ultimate solution of theological problems was 
made by Phillips Brooks himself in his own 
distinctive manner." 

Examples from his note-books of the first year 
in the seminary (he was then only twenty-one) are: 
"We must learn the infinite capacity of truth to 
speak to every human mind, and of every human 
mind to hear, and more or less completely understand 
the truth that speaks. . . . Let us then rever- 
ence our neighbor's way of finding truth. If by 
his life and faith we can clearly see that he is finding 
it indeed, let us not turn away because he hears it 
in another tongue than ours. The speaker is the 
same. If he can read in a stormy sky, or a sunny 
landscape, lessons for which we must go to books 
and sermons so much the better for him." 

"A noble principle or thought, like the widow's 
barrel and cruse is never dry. We draw on it for 
our daily life, we drink of its power in our weakness, 
and taste its power in our despair; but God's bless- 
ing is on it and the fulness of his truth is filling it, and 
so it never fails. We come back to it in our next 
weakness or our next despondency, and find it 
thoughtful and hopeful as ever, till the famine is 
over, and, kept alive and nurtured by its strength, 
we come forth to gather new harvests of great 
thoughts." 

Like almost all successful preachers, he began to 
preach while a student in the seminary. In his 
senior year he and another member of his class took 
charge of a small mission at Sharon, three miles 

375 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

distant. This is the best way to learn to preach. 
Thus only can the powers that are used in preaching, 
especially extempore preaching, be developed. He is 
said to have made a total failure on his first attempt, 
receiving as his only encouragement the advice to 
"try again." This he did, and with such promising 
success, that he soon after wrote to his brother, 
"Though no orator as Brutus is, it goes pretty glib." 
Better evidence than this is found in the fact that 
two strangers toward the end of the year were seen 
in his congregation, who after the sermon sought 
an interview with him, and so favorably impressed 
had they been with his sermon, invited him in the 
name of their church, whose committee they were, 
to become the pastor of the Church of the Advent, 
Philadelphia. He accepted the call and entered 
upon his work on Sunday, July 10, 1859, at the 
age of twenty-three and one-half years. 

Ten years he labored in Philadelphia, two and 
one-half years as minister of the Church of the 
Advent, seven and one-half as minister of the Church 
of the Holy Trinity. Twenty-two years he la- 
bored in Boston as minister of Trinity Church, and 
for a year and a half he served his Church as the 
Bishop of Massachusetts. 

His development in pulpit power as a preacher 
of the gospel was rapid, almost astonishing, and his 
reputation as a remarkable preacher soon became 
established and wide-spread. Of course he did not 
at once attain the acme of his power. This had its 
stages of growth, like that of lesser men, and it did 
not reach its culmination until he went to Boston 

376 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

and was midway in his ministry there, but the 
chief qualities that characterized his preaching in 
the fulness and maturity of his glorious manhood, 
were developed and manifested in those years of his 
early ministry spent in Philadelphia. "Later years," 
says Dr. Brastow, "may have witnessed in many 
respects more important service for the church and 
the world, but none were marked by greater intel- 
lectual brilliancy or more popular effectiveness 
than those years of the Philadelphia ministry." 

What then were the chief characteristics of his 
preaching? What qualities distinguished this great 
man, who for a full generation, upward of thirty- 
three years, was to stand before the American people 
in two of their chief cities and proclaim to them with 
most convincing and impressive powers the everlast- 
ing gospel of Christ? 

(1) He was a magnificent specimen of physical 
manhood. Tall of stature — six feet four inches — 
of stalwart, symmetrical form, which was surmounted 
by a large, shapely head with dark, kindly eyes and 
noble features, expressive mouth and chin, uncon- 
cealed by any beard, the very appearance of the 
man drew attention. 

(2) An agreeable voice, which Dr. Brastow de- 
scribes (in "Representative Modern Preachers") as 
"a full, strong voice, not well-managed, but full of 
feeling and force." It was "not well-managed," 
because, unlike Beecher, he never tried to improve 
it by judicious elocutionary training; he "despised 
elocution as begetting self -consciousness, at war with 
naturalness and simplicity." In his case, his agree- 

377 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

able sympathetic voice with its unspoiled natural- 
ness joined to his unconscious earnestness was 
probably an advantage, in spite of the torrent-like 
rapidity of his utterance. 

(3) He was a very thoughtful preacher. In the 
natural opulence and productiveness of his mind 
he resembled Beecher. But he greatly surpassed 
Beecher as a scholar and in the extent of his reading 
and literary culture. He laid under tribute nearly 
the whole realm of good literature. And so there 
was in his sermons, as Professor Allen says, "an 
indescribable flavor of the world's richest literature." 
They possess also a greater literary value than 
Beecher's as sermon literature, because of the supe- 
rior training in English received by him in the Latin 
School and at Harvard, and his constant practice 
of careful writing in his note-books as well as of his 
sermons. He inherited from his father a talent for 
clear, exact expression, with which there was united 
an imaginative charm which arrested attention and 
held it spellbound. 

(4) He possessed an extraordinary capacity for 
feeling and especially religious feeling. "It was this 
element," says Professor Allen, "that formed one 
large constituent in the secret of his strength. His 
capcity for deep feeling was like the ocean in its 
majesty; ideas, experiences, the forces of life that 
appealed to him, roused him as a whirlwind, in 
waves of inevitable power, and feeling became a 
torrent until it had found expression. But this 
feeling found its freest expression in the pulpit, 
going forth to the great congregation." In this 

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PHILLIPS BROOKS 

capacity for deep, overwhelming feeling, Brooks 
and Beecher were alike, and both derived the en- 
dowment from their mothers. It is characteristic 
of all the great preachers and is the chief element of 
impressive, enthralling eloquence. 

(5) He was possessed of a rich and fertile imagina- 
tion, which gave color to all his preaching. He 
habitually looked at truth through the revealing or 
transfiguring light of imagination. "This habit of 
looking at truth through the imagination, which, 
Dr. Brastow thinks, was in part at least the result 
of his study of Alexandrian philosophy and the 
Church Fathers, Tertullian, Cyprian and Augustine, 
was prominent in his preaching throughout his ca- 
reer" ("Representative Preachers"). His mind was 
analogical and was quick to discover resemblances. 
It found in outward things attractive and instructive 
images of divine truth. His sermon, "The Candle 
of the Lord," is an interesting example. How 
skilfully he uses the candle and its relation to the 
fire that kindles it into a blaze and makes it sub- 
servient to its uses, as an analogue of man's spirit 
and its relation to God! 

Through his imagination, Phillips Brooks was an 
able and most interesting interpreter of truth. 
By it also he glorified truth and so commended it 
to men, that they suddenly found it attractive who 
previously had discovered no beauty or compelling 
charm in it. 

(6) His vision of things unseen and eternal was 
most clear, constant and real. "That vision of 
soul, that sense of the invisible and eternal," says 

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NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Dr. Brastow, "was one of his choicest gifts and it 
was nourished by all the choicest sources of his 
culture and all the great experiences of his life." He 
inherited this also from his mother. It grew and 
expanded his horizon with the advancing years. 
He lived habitually in two worlds, this mundane 
world and the heavenly world. "In the realm that 
to Huxley was non-existent for want of evidence," 
says Dr. W. N. Clarke, "Brooks lived and moved 
and had his being. Hear the voice of one who finds 
it most real, and dwells at home in its spiritual 
atmosphere. Quotation is the quickest way to 
show what Phillips Brooks found there: 'I knew 
all about God before you told me,' said little blind, 
deaf, dumb Helen Keller to me one day, 'only I did 
not know His name.' It was a perfect expression 
of the innateness of the divine idea in the human 
mind, of the belonging of the human soul to God." 
In a more personal strain, he says again: "Less 
and less, I think, grows the consciousness of seeking 
God. Greater and greater grows the certainty that 
he is seeking us and giving himself to us to the com- 
plete measure of our present capacity. 'That is 
love, not that we loved him, but that he loved us.' 
There is such a thing as putting ourselves in the way 
of God's overflowing love and letting it break upon 
us till the response of love comes, not by struggle, 
not even by deliberation, but by necessity, as the 
echo comes when the sound strikes the rock." What 
language is this, for affirmation of infinite but tangi- 
ble realities discovered in that world which Huxley 
found blank and bare! In this region moved year 

380 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

after year the thought and utterance of the man, 
and the action of his life. There he found a splendid 
freedom, and his ample powers struck out in generous 
activity. He did not look into religion and into 
God as a bird may look from its nest into the open 
sky. He rose into religion and into God, and was 
there sustained. 

A beautiful illustration of the truth of Dr. Clarke's 
representation here of the operation of the religious 
faculty, in the case of Phillips Brooks and of all 
whom he inspired with like faith, has been given the 
writer of this "study," while at work upon it. On 
the piazza of our summer cottage, some little wrens 
have built their nest and reared their young. The 
time having come for their young to leave their 
nest and launch themselves upon the air in flight, it 
seemed marvelous, that with no experience in flying, 
they boldly flung themselves upon the air, as their 
instinct prompted, and found themselves equipped 
with the needful wings that carried them safely in 
it; and that, in a little while, these wings being 
strengthened and developed by exercise, they found 
flying a joy and the air their natural element. So 
let a human soul commit itself to the religious 
life as taught by Christ, and its faith will be 
justified that this life is the life for which it was 
intended. 

"To Phillips Brooks," says Dr. Clarke, "God was 
the greatest and most certain of realities. Christ 
has revealed God, and shown what manner of God 
he is, and to this man Christ stood for God: Christ 
in the infinite beauty and power of his character 

381 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

meant the meaning of God to him. God meant 
Christ, and Christ meant God; and under either 
name he had before him the reality which he felt to 
be the glory of this world and of all worlds. Accord- 
ingly his keywords were such as God, Christ, the 
soul, personality, love, life. The keyword of his 
later ministry was life. In those glorious years of 
spiritual power he used to say that he had only one 
text and one sermon, and the one text was, I am 
come that they might have life, and have it more 
abundantly. The soul's experience of inexhaust- 
ible, overflowing life in fellowship with the living 
God, this was his own theme, and this experience he 
helped multitudes to make their own."* He might 
have truly said, with the apostle: "My citizenship 
is in heaven. I have directed my mind to things 
above where Christ sitteth on the right hand of 
God." He walked with God; he conversed with 
Christ as his most intimate friend. He loved his 
earthly friends and fondly sought and lingered in 
their society, but for none of them had he such 
attachment as for Christ. Him he knew better and 
from him received an influence more potent, real 
and palpable than from any other. His mother's 
exhortations: "Keep close to your Savior, Philly," 
"Preach Christ faithfully," he carefully observed. 

(7) He possessed an independent mind. Though 
he studied the works of the great men of the past 
and of his own time, and appreciated them, the works 
of the Christian Fathers, of Bacon, Robertson, 
Bossuet, Goethe, yet he owned none of them as 

* Article, Huxley and Phillips Brooks. Bib. Sac, Vol. LIX, pp. 14-15. 

382 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

master. He weighed the thoughts and opinions of 
each in the balance of his own mind and accepted 
what in his judgment was true. He did not give 
an unquestioning, blind assent even to the greatest. 
Furthermore, he was not willing to accept another's 
opinion of a book or author; he wanted to read him 
for himself. The practice of review reading as a 
substitute for one's personal examination of books, 
he condemned as unprofitable. "To read merely 
what some one has said about a book," he says 
(see "Essays and Addresses," Courage) "is probably 
as unstimulating, as unfertilizing a process as the 
human mind can submit to. Read books them- 
selves. To read a book is to make a friend; if it 
is worth your reading you meet a man; if there is 
anything in you, he will quicken it." 

(8) He magnified Christ out of a rich and ever 
deepening personal experience of his grace. His 
preaching, like that of the apostles, was largely a 
personal testimony, a speaking of things which he 
has seen and heard. Quite as much as Beecher, 
he aimed to hold up and commend Christ to his 
great congregation, rather than discourse to them 
upon abstract theological dogmas and abstruse 
themes. Among his published sermons, there are 
four or five upon the single text, John 8:12: "I 
am the Light of the World, he that followeth me, 
etc." We recommend to our readers to read the 
particular one which furnishes the title to the fifth 
series of his sermons, "The Light of the World." 
In it, he represents Christ as doing for the individual 
soul and the world of humanity, what the sun does 

383 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

for the physical world; as waking it up from its 
previous darkness, torpidity and sterile state to a 
state of transforming light and life, beauty and 
fruitfulness. Christ and the soul were meant for 
each other as the sun and the earth. And as the 
quickening sun in the morning and in the spring- 
time, calls to the drowsy and frost-blighted earth, 
to awake and array itself in its beautiful garments, 
and in doing this to come on to its true self, so the 
Christ in like manner calls to man to put off his 
sin and misery and enter upon his true life and ful- 
fill his high destiny. It is a message that appeals 
to the best that is in man and encourages him to 
attempt for himself what is best. It is a gospel 
of redemption from sin and death. 

(9) He possessed a power of universal sympathy, 
the power of entering into the lives of people of 
every class, and inspiring them "to the elevation of 
high strung feeling and purposes." "Marvelously," 
says a distinguished Methodist preacher,* "did he 
bring out of that wonderful gospel teachings which 
appeal to the profound and the learned, and plain 
lessons which also help the unlettered." The 
scholar said, "He is of us," and the unlettered, 
"He is of us." The poor said, "He is of us," and 
the rich said, "He is of us." To the young he 
was full of buoyancy; to the troubled he was a 
man deeply acquainted with grief. All men, of all 
classes and conditions claimed him because in his 
magnificent heart and sympathy he seemed to enter 
into their trials, disappointments and successes, 

* Vol. 2, p. 812 of Professor Allen's Life. 

384 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

and had power to heal the soreness of heart which 
was common to them all. 

(10) He was unmistakably a great man in every 
respect, physically, mentally, morally and in heart. 
"I have known," says Dr. Weir Mitchell, "a number 
of the men we call great — poets, statesmen, soldiers — 
but Phillips Brooks was the only one I ever knew who 
seemed to me entirely great." His was that genuine 
greatness which made itself quickly felt in spite of 
every obstacle. Personal prejudices, theological 
differences and antagonisms, sectarian bitterness 
and worldly-mindedness, pride of intellect — each 
and all were swept away; men were made captives 
to his will, and glad to have it so. 

Whatever he did was greatly done. There was 
the stamp of his great heart and soul upon it. A 
remarkable example: When still a young man of 
only twenty-nine, scarcely known outside of Phila- 
delphia, he was given the signal honor of making 
the prayer at the commemorative service of Harvard 
in honor of its soldier dead, who had fallen in the 
war. "Why should such a part have been given to 
so young a man on such an important occasion?" 
many asked, and in asking they implied their dis- 
pleasure and disposition not to be satisfied with 
any service he might render in performing the diffi- 
cult function. But with the first sentence their 
attention was caught and they listened breathless. 
When the prayer was over the people turned and 
looked at one another and said: "What a prayer!" 
"It was the most impressive utterance," says Presi- 
dent Eliot, "of a proud and happy day. Even 

25 385 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Lowell's 'Commemoration Ode' did not at the 
moment so touch the hearts of his hearers." 

His eloquence was unique, entirely unlike that of 
any other preacher. It owed little or nothing, as 
we have said, to his elocution or grace of delivery. 
It was an eloquence entirely of thought and feeling, 
"a stream of liquid fire, hurrying on in a careless 
monotone so swiftly as to tease and half baffle the 
most watchful ear, until the great throng in painful, 
eager silence became entranced and ecstatic under 
its influence." This was true of his written sermons 
closely read, as he stood impassive, almost statu- 
esque before his audience. He possessed, however, 
another kind of eloquence, that of the extempore 
speaker, which was even more wonderful. "As 
an extempore speaker he was simply matchless," 
Dr. Weir Mitchell says. This mode of speaking 
he practiced from the beginning. In Philadelphia 
he had regularly a Wednesday evening service, at 
which he usually spoke in this way, and as Dr. Weir 
Mitchell thought, the most impressively. "There 
and thus, you got all the impressible sympathy his 
noble sturdiness (of person) gave to the torrent of 
speech, which at first had some hesitancy, and then 
rolled on, easy, fluent and strong." He prepared 
himself for preaching with the greatest care. His 
method of preparation is fully described in the 
fourth chapter of the second volume of Professor 
Allen's "Life." It is well worth careful study for 
its homiletic value. It offers the best example of 
the art of sermon-making we know of. 

The first step was to jot down in his "note-book" 

386 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

(some kind of note-book was his inseparable com- 
panion) the idea of his sermon, as it occurred to 
him in his thinking or Bible study. Carrying con- 
stantly in mind the thought of his ministry, he 
was always on the lookout for sermon topics, and 
was quick to catch any hint that might give him a 
sermon and made haste to write it down with the 
related suggestions that might come with it. 

Here are two examples: 

John 1:46 "Come and see." 

"The proper appeal that may be made to a sceptic 
to come and test Christianity. (1) The truth of 
the Bible. (2) The phenomenon of Christ. (3) 
The Christian History. (4) The religious experi- 
ence, by putting himself into the power of what he 
did hold." 

Acts 3: 3 "Silver and gold have I none, but such 
as I have give I thee." 

"There is something better for us to have than 
money. So there must be something better to 
give. The greatest benefactors have not given 
money — Christ. So of those who have helped you 
most. Do not make anything I say an excuse for 
not giving money. What we can give besides; 
ideas, inspiration, comfort, and above all access to 
God for what He alone can give — forgiveness and 
grace. A man must really possess, himself, before 
he can really give." 

A multitude of germinal ideas and embryo sketches 
of this kind are found in his note-books. He thus 
never lacked subjects to preach upon. 

Usually he had settled upon his text by Monday 

387 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

noon for the next Sunday morning, and he gave 
Mondays and Tuesdays to the collection of materials 
for it, "bringing together in his note-book or on 
scraps of paper the thoughts which were cognate 
to his leading thought, or necessary for its illustra- 
tion and expansion." Wednesday forenoon he de- 
voted entirely to writing out the plan he would 
follow. The hardest part of his work was then 
believed to be done. Thursday forenoon and Fri- 
day forenoon were devoted to writing the sermon. 
"He wrote with rapidity and ease, rarely making a 
correction, and in a large, legible handwriting." 

In a similar way he prepared his plans for his 
extempore sermons. He never trusted to the time 
of preaching to give him what he wanted to say. 
He previously fixed upon his topic and outlined his 
course of thought. 

In reading Dr. Allen's description of his plan- 
making, you get the impression that there was 
something mechanical about this work, and wonder 
how he could make those dry bones live, or clothe 
these skeletons with such strength and beauty. 
But that was the work of his genius, quickened by 
his religious faith and supported by his unflagging 
labor in thinking, reading, and observation of life, 
through which abundant materials were supplied. 

"He first opened his soul to the influence of the 
truth which was to constitute his message, devising 
the most forcible method in order to make it appeal 
to his own heart, and then under the influence of his 
own conviction he wrote and preached his sermon. 
This process kept him natural, sincere and unaffected, 

388 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

preserving his personality in all and free from the 
dangers of conventionalism and artificiality." Two 
impressions were paramount in his preaching, as 
especially characteristic of his eloquence: They 
were its inexhaustible affluence of thought and 
feeling, and its genuine life. Professor A. B. Bruce, 
of Glasgow, after hearing him three times with 
growing admiration said: "Our great preachers (of 
England and Scotland) take into the pulpit a bucket 
full, or half full, of the word of God and then by the 
force of personal mechanism they attempt to convey 
it to the congregation. But this man is just a great 
water-main attached to the everlasting reservoir of 
God's truth and grace and love, and streams of 
life pour through him to refresh every weary soul." 
"Life" says Professor Allen, "was a word running 
through all his sermons. This ever recurring word 
is expressive of the man." 

Whenever he rose to address the great congrega- 
tions that were attracted to his preaching, his heart 
kindled at the sight, and he was eager to communi- 
cate the truth which he believed to be divinely 
adapted to human need. It was a living message 
that came from his lips. 

At the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861, the 
second year of his Philadelphia ministry, he threw 
himself with patriotic fervor into the various ques- 
tions of emancipation and reconstruction, and his 
eloquence, like Beecher's, was raised to its highest 
pitch by their influence. It was a time of mighty 
inspirations, and he was touched and deeply moved 
by them. "It awakened and evoked the greatness 

389 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

of Phillips Brooks." His patriotic sermons and 
platform addresses then mightily stirred men. He 
was reckoned among the foremost of the advocates 
of moral and political reform. 

The Episcopal Church, prior to the war, and even 
after its beginning, was very conservative and 
silent upon the subject of slavery, and disposed to 
frown upon any utterance condemnatory of it, as 
"political preaching" unsuitable to her pulpits and 
unbecoming her ministers; but through Brooks' 
influence this reactionary attitude of his Church was 
changed, and she was brought into full sympathy 
with the government in its struggle with the rebel- 
lious states trying to maintain that great iniquity. 

When the assassin Booth, inspired by its spirit, 
killed Lincoln, Brooks' voice was among the most 
eloquent to deplore his death and eulogize his great 
virtues and service. ! Among his published addresses 
this eulogy holds a notable place. Its appreciation 
of Lincoln is a measure of his own greatness as well 
as of Lincoln's. Only a great soul can so worthily 
estimate, and so eloquently speak the praises of 
another great soul. 

Another influence, second only in importance to 
that of the Civil War, which contributed to his devel- 
opment in Philadelphia was that of his friendships. 
He was a sociable man, whose heart craved the so- 
ciety of congenial friends, and whose mind expanded 
and appeared at its best under the stimulus of their 
presence and conversation, Included in the circle 
were his brother ministers, W. W. Newton and 
C. A. Richards, and some eminent laymen. 

390 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

I have spoken of Dr. Weir Mitchell's estimate of 
his greatness and eloquence. He became the pastor 
of Dr. Mitchell in Holy Trinity and formed with 
him and his invalid sister, Elizabeth, a most inti- 
mate friendship. "Always once, and usually twice 
a week, he dined with us," says Dr. Mitchell, "and 
five evenings out of seven he was in the habit of 
dropping in about ten o'clock for a talk before the 
fire in my library. The friendship thus formed 
matured with years. How dear it was to me I like 
to think. . . . With my sister it was as close 
a tie. She was by nature fond of books and her 
reading was wide and various. In many directions 
she became singularly learned, especially in all 
biblical literature and the history of the Church. 
Witty, quick of tongue, picturesque and often quaint 
in statement, her talk was full of pleasant surprises. 
He said to me once, that no one had so influenced 
his opinions as this remarkable woman." 

We speak of his friendship with her and her gifted 
brother, to indicate that he was no recluse, either in 
Philadelphia or in Boston, though he never married. 
As a matter of fact he was one of the most genial 
and companionable of men and he had in full develop- 
ment all the social virtues. This is one secret of 
his large-hearted, universal sympathy with men and 
of the attraction he exercised over them. He was 
entirely unspoiled by his great success and wide- 
spread fame. He never put on airs, or exhibited 
anything like personal vanity or arrogance: modest 
and seemingly unconscious of his indisputable claims 
to consideration, he was courteous and friendly to 

391 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

all, manifesting the meekness and gentleness of 
Christ, with whom he lived in spirit. 

There never was a pastor who enjoyed more of the 
love and confidence of his people. When he entered 
upon his ministry in Boston, as pastor of Trinity 
Church, October 31, 1869, he was not quite thirty- 
four years old. In his service of twenty -two years 
with this church, it steadily grew in strength and 
influence, until it became, through the attractiveness 
of Mr. Brooks' preaching, one of the most notable 
churches in the land. His congregations were 
variously composed of strangers from abroad, the 
elite of the city, large numbers of young men and 
women, and the poor; and it attests the largeness 
and kindness of his heart, that the humblest class 
received as much of his notice as the highest, and 
as keenly enjoyed his message. His sermons in- 
creased in spirituality and heart-power, and sounded 
an ever-deepening note with the advancing years; 
and their unfailing, unwaning interest for the great 
throng which hung upon his lips, year after year, 
proved that he had unmistakably "the true genius 
of the preacher, which consists in the power of so 
uttering spiritual truth that it shall be effective in 
influencing the hearts of men." 

During his lifetime, he published five volumes of 
sermons, which had a very large sale; thirty thous- 
and, twenty-five thousand, twenty thousand; and 
since his death the number of volumes has grown to 
twelve. They are among the choicest in homiletic 
literature. In those first volumes only five of his 
Philadelphia sermons were published. As compared 

392 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

with his later sermons, "they are," Professor Allen 
thinks, "more poetic and imaginative, with a higher 
literary finish. The traces of work are more manifest 
in them." Example: The seventh sermon of the 
First Series, "All Saints Day," "perhaps the most 
beautiful of all," Professor Allen says. "In his 
later preaching the contagion of a great conviction, 
into which with growing clearness he had come, was 
manifest." On the power of this the preacher most 
relies for the propagation of the truth. 

In Boston his fame became not only national but 
international. He now had the honor of preaching 
repeatedly in Westminster Abbey and before the 
Queen of England; and his preaching across the 
sea made as profound impression as in his own coun- 
try. Sermons preached in Westminster Abbey: 
"Symbol and Reality," sixteenth of First Series: 
"The Candle of the Lord," first of Second Series. 
With both of these Dean Stanley was greatly 
pleased. Sermon before the Queen, "A Pillar in 
God's Temple," fourth in Second Series. 

Three notable things during his Boston ministry 
are especially worth attention for their relation to 
his expanding influence and ministerial powers: 

His preaching in Huntington Hall. 

His "Lectures on Preaching" before the Yale 
Divinity School. 

His ministry to the students of Harvard College. 

He preached for four years in Huntington Hall 
because of the destruction of his own church in the 
great Boston fire, in November, 1872. Those four 
years mark a distinct epoch in his ministry. The 

393 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

location of the Hall, on Boylston Street, was more 
convenient, its accommodations more ample, and 
its novelty as a place of worship especially attractive 
to many, though its secular character and associa- 
tions, made it objectionable to many churchgoing 
people. Immediately the great Hall became a 
center of interest and attraction. It was soon filled, 
thronged beyond its utmost capacity, morning and 
afternoon. "No courses of lectures on literature, 
art, or science with which the Hall was associated 
ever witnessed a greater audience. This was the 
case Sunday after Sunday, till people became accus- 
tomed to it as to the gifts of God and hardly won- 
dered at the munificence of the feast." There, 
Principal Tulloch, of the University of Aberdeen, 
Scotland, heard him, in the spring of '74, preach the 
sermon entitled "The Opening of the Eyes," (pub- 
lished in the Fifth Series) and sitting down to write 
home to his wife, he said, "I never heard preaching 
like it. So much thought and so much life combined ; 
such a reach of mind and such a depth and insight 
of soul. I was electrified. I could have got up and 
shouted." 

His lectures to the students of the Yale Divinity 
School were given in 1877 upon the Lyman Beecher 
lectureship, and form the most precious volume in 
the whole series. We recommend to all divinity 
students to procure the book, "Lectures on Preach- 
ing," and to read it once a year for ^ive years, until 
their minds are fully possessed of and enriched by 
its ideas upon the subject discussed. A more stim- 
ulating and instructive volume upon the general 

394 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

subject of the Christian ministry we never have met. 
"It abounded in sentences which linger in the mind." 
Brooks was then forty-two years old, and in those 
lectures he gave to the theological students and the 
younger clergy the ripe results of twenty years 
experience and thought. "They constitute the 
autobiography of Phillips Brooks, the confessions 
of a great preacher." Besides their literary charm 
and personal flavor, they have the additional merit 
of presenting to the ministry the noblest and most 
inspiring ideal of the preacher's work and character. 
We reckon it the most precious of his writings. It 
has had a mighty influence in moulding the char- 
acters and shaping the work of the ministry in the 
last generation. It was republished in English 
and translated into the French and read by ministers 
of every denomination. The good it has done can 
not be estimated. 

His ministry to the students of Harvard College 
may be said to have begun almost with his coming 
from Philadelphia to Boston. His voice was often 
heard, in sermon and address, in Appleton Chapel 
and in the Episcopal Theological School of Cam- 
bridge. They thronged to hear him whenever he 
was advertised to speak, and they went over to 
Boston in large numbers to hear him Sunday after- 
noon. When the college adopted the plan of having 
a body of temporary Chaplains, who should severally 
serve a number of Sabbaths, as preacher and pastor, 
in place of one college preacher to minister to the 
students, he was foremost among those selected, and 
he was repeatedly chosen to serve the college in this 

395 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

way. Of all the preachers whom the students heard, 
he was the most enthusiastically admired and loved. 
It was fitting, in view of this love and the great 
influence that he had exerted over them, that when 
he died his body should be borne to and from Trinity 
Church, where the funeral services were held, on 
the shoulders of Harvard students. He had been 
their best counsellor and friend. He, more than 
any other man, had delivered the college from its 
former reproach of being a godless place, and made 
its atmosphere religious and wholesome, so that the 
last time he preached in Appleton Chapel at the 
beginning of the college year he could truly say, 
"If there is any man of whom this place makes a 
sceptic or a profligate, what can we sadly say but 
this: 'He was not worthy of the place to which he 
came, he was not up to Harvard College.' The man 
with true soul cannot be ruined here. Coming 
here humbly, bravely, he shall meet his Christ. 
Here he shall come into the fuller presence of the 
Christ whom he had known and loved in the dear 
Christian home, and know and love Him more than 
ever." 

No higher or harder test of a preacher's character 
and power can be found than to win the respect and 
love of such a body of young men. He who does 
it must be pure gold. They are keen to detect any 
counterfeit, and merciless in their contempt for it. 

He died in the early morning of Monday, January 
23, 1898, in the fifty-seventh year of his age. He had 
preached on Tuesday evening of the preceding week 
his last sermon at the Visitation service given as 

396 



PHILLIPS BROOKS 

bishop of the diocese to the Church of the Good 
Shepherd in Boston. The subject of his sermon 
was, Christ Feeding the Multitude in the Desert, a 
subject that lay close to his heart and which may be 
said to have embodied the principal theme of his 
ministry. The announcement of his death, unher- 
alded by any previous notice of his illness, produced 
a great shock of surprise and of wide-spread sorrow. 
By his death Boston felt that it had lost its greatest 
citizen. The popular sentiment demanded that a 
bronze statue, to perpetuate his imposing form and 
noble face, should be erected to his memory. The 
eminent sculptor, St. Gaudens, executed it among 
his last works, and it now stands in front of Trinity 
Church. It gives a good idea of the superb manhood 
of its subject. 

Among the substantial tributes given to his mem- 
ory is "The Phillips Brooks House" at Harvard 
College, a noble building erected for religious pur- 
poses to perpetuate in the college the Christian 
atmosphere which he did so much to create there. 
The fund for it was started by the class of 1855, his 
own class, and it was swollen by large contributions 
made by English friends and admirers. On the 
tablet in the central hall is this inscription: 

"A preacher of righteousness and hope, majestic 
in stature, impetuous in utterances, rejoicing in the 
truth, unhampered by bonds of church or station, 
he brought by his life and doctrine fresh faith to a 
people, fresh meaning to ancient creeds; to this 
University he gave constant love, large service, high 
example." 

397 



NINE GREAT PREACHERS 

Thank God for such a character, for such a minis- 
try, for such a life, in which the aspiration expressed 
in his own words was fulfilled: 

" — a life that men shall love to know 
Has once been lived on this degenerate earth, 
And sing it like some tale of long ago 
In ballad-sweetness round their household hearth." 



398 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The Interest and Value of Ministerial Biography as illustrated in: 

The History of Christian Preaching. By Prof. T. H. Pattison. Ameri- 
can Baptist Publication Society. Philadelphia, 1903. 

The Outlook. November 12, 1910. Reminiscences of Edward Everett 
Hale. 

Autobiography of Lyman Beecher. Edited by his son. 2 vols. Harper 
& Brothers, 1871. 

Life and Times of Saint John Chrysostom. By W. R. W. Stephens. 
London. John Murray, 1883. 

Historical Sketches. By John Henry Newman of The Oratory. 2 
vols. London. Basil Montague Pickering, 1876. 

John of Antioch in Orations and Addresses. By R. S. Storrs, D. D. 
Boston. Pilgrim Press. 

Ben Hur. By Gen. Lew Wallace. New York. Harper's, 1880. 

Bernard of Clairveaux. The Times, the Man, and His Work. By 
Richard S. Storrs. New York. Chas. Scribner's Sons, 1892. 

Church History of Britain. By Thomas Fuller. Encyclopedia Brit- 
tanica. Article, "Monarchism." 

Life of John Bunyan. By Rev. John Brown. Bunyan's Grace Abound- 
ing. Pilgrim's Progress. Bunyan's Sermons: Come and Wel- 
come to Jesus Christ. Bunyan's The Barren Fig-Tree. The 
Jerusalem Sinner Saved. Life of Dean A. P. Stanley. Inaugura- 
tion of Bunyan's Statue at Bedford. Bunyan's Sermon : The Heav- 
enly Footman. 

Life and Times of Richard Baxter. 2 vols. By William Orme, Bishop 
Gilbert Burnet's History of His own Times. Baxter's Saints' Rest, 
and The Reformed Pastor. Reliquiae Baxterianae: or, Baxter's 
History of his own Life and Times. 

Address at the Inauguration of the Statue of Richard Baxter in Kidder- 
minster. By Dean A. P. Stanley. Littell's Living Age, vol. 127. 

Bossuet: Orator Etudes Critiques sur les Sermons. Par Eugene Gandar. 
Paris. Errin et Cie, 1888. 

Occasional Papers. By Dean R. W. Church. Vol. 1 : No. 14. Bossuet's 
Oraison Funebres. Paris. Gamier Freres. 

399 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Life and Letters of Frederick W. Robertson. By Stopford A. Brooke. 

New York. Harper & Brothers, 1878. 
The Sermons of F. W. Robertson. Complete in One volume. New York. 

Harper's, 1878. 
Representative Modern Preachers. By L. O. Brastow, D. D. New 

York. The MacMillan Co., 1904. 
The Life of Alexander McLaren. By Miss E. T. McLaren. Hodder & 

Stoughton. London. 
Sermons Preached in Manchester. 3 vols. MacMillan & Co. 
The Secret of Power. MacMillan & Co. 
Life of Henry Ward Beecher, the Shakespeare of the Pulpit. By John 

Henry Barrows, D. D. 
Henry Ward Beecher. By Lyman Abbott. 
Autobiography and Correspondence of Lyman Beecher, D. D. Edited 

by his son. 
Six Sermons upon Intemperance. By L. Beecher. 
Sermon against Duelling. By L. Beecher. 
Life of Phillips Brooks. By Prof. Alexander V. G. Allen. 2 vols. 

New York E. P. Dutton & Co., 1900. 
Bibliotheca Sacra, for January, 1902. Vol. 59. Article, Huxley and 

Phillips Brooks. By Dr. W. N. Clarke. 
Sermons, 1st, 2d, and 3d Series. 
Yale Lectures on Preaching. By Phillips Brooks. E. P. Dutton, New 

York, 1877. 
Y r ale Lectures on Puritan Preachers and Preaching. By Dr. John 

Brown, D. D. 



400 



INDEX 

Abbi d' Albert, 170. 

Abbott, Lyman, 328, 344, 346, 348, 349, 351, 361. 

Abelard, 102-110. 

Allen, Prof. Alexander, V.G., 366, 370, 372, 374, 378, 384, 388, 389. 

Antioch, 32, 53, 54. 

Anthusa, 31. 

Arcadius, Emperor, 50, 59. 

Armitage, Rev. Thos., 325. 

Arnold, Dr. Thomas, 191, 192, 237. 

Aurelius, Marcus, 192. 

Augustine, 171. 

Bagshaw, Edward, a friend of Baxter, made an opponent 147, 148. 

Barrow, Dr. Isaac, his remark concerning Baxter's writings, 133. 

Barrows, Dr. John Henry, 326, 332, 333, 336, 340, 348, 358. 

Basil, friend of Chrysostom, 37-40. 

Baxter, Richard, birth, parentage, early life and education 113-115; 
ordained for the ministry, begins work in Kidderminster, makes it a 
famous parish, 115; shows extraordinary qualifications as a preacher, 
cultivates the art of preaching, and displayed great eloquence with much 
success, 115-119; at the outbreak of the Civil War takes refuge in Coven- 
try, there labors among soldiers of the garrison, induced to become 
a chaplain in Parliamentary army, followed it fearlessly into battle, 
120; encounters sectaries, 121; opposed Cromwell with boldness 122- 
123; returns to Kidderminster after absence of four years, stimulated to 
greater earnestness by army experiences 124-125; joins to his preach- 
ing family visitation and private conversation with great results, 125- 
127; enlists laymen to work with him and starts weekly prayer meetings, 
127-128; anticipates John Wesley in his ideas and methods by 100 years 
and transforms the moral and religious tone of the town, 128-129; it 
led him to write the "Reformed Pastor," notable in religious literature, 
129-130; estimate of it by Philip Doddridge and Henry C. Duvant, 129; 
Dr. Johnson's praise of Baxter's writings, 130; his Practical Writings 
of great value — "Saints Rest" his first and best known book — still a 
live book with "a style of robust eloquence, from time to time of rare 
felicity of language which once heard can scarcely be forgotten" (Dean 
Trench), 132-134. He had a prominent part after the Restoration in 

26 401 



INDEX 

vain attempts made over King's Declaration to reconcile religious differ- 
ences 134-140; declined the bishopric of Hereford, 140; attends the Savoy 
Conference, 140-142; deprived of his charge in Kidderminster; his offense; 
therefore ever an object of bitter persecution by Bishop Morley and 
others, 143-145; his marriage and devoted wife, 145. His pen busy in 
spite of poor health, "Dying Thoughts," "Narrative of His Life," 145- 
146. His unfortunate, offensive manner of attacking opponents; the 
comparison his biographer, Orme, makes between his manner and that 
of Dr. Owen, 140-147; controversey with Edward Bagshaw, its sad ending 
and his regret over it, 147-148. Notable change wrought in his last years 
from contentiousness to tolerance, his motto for toleration, 148-149. 
His own record of changes in his own mind and opinion, "since the 
unriper times of his youth," — Dean Stanley's estimate of its value, 150. 
" Counsels of Moderation, " 151-157; monument to his memory dedicated 
July 28, 1875,— significance of it, 157-158. In Judge Jeffries Court- 
imprisonment — closing years and death, 159-161. 

Henry Ward Beecher, parentage, early home environment, 325-328; 
boyhood in Boston — attends Latin School — desires to go to sea — diverted 
from this by father's wisdom, 329; Mt. Pleasant School, good teachers 
and revival turn his thoughts toward the ministry, 329, 330; enters 
Amherst College, habits of study, college standing, 330; at Lane Semi- 
nary, 331; profitable study of New Testament under Prof. C. E. Stowe, 
but neglects Systematic Theology — never had much knowledge of it, 
331-332; the Seminary then a storm center of theological controversy, 
from which his father suffered to the disgust and perplexity of Henry 
Ward, 332; has a remarkable revelation of God's truth, 333-334; effect 
of this upon him, 335; call to Lawrenceburg, marriage and early house- 
keeping, 335; ideas as to conditions of success, favorable impression soon 
made by his sermons, large congregations, the theology in his preaching, 
335-336; his widening influence, call to Indianapolis, crudeness of the 
place of that time, 336; impression made by his preaching there; where 
he got his ideas of the aim and right method of preaching; his indebted- 
ness to the Book of Acts and writings of St. Paul; his preaching evangelis- 
tic and productive of revivals, lectures to "Young Men," 337-338; 
pictorial style of preaching, illustrations fresh, original and profuse, 338- 
339; extended reputation, call to Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., 
ill health of his wife, Plymouth Church's growth under his ministry, 339; 
his equipment and capital for the business of the ministry, 340-347; 
his remarkable voice, not natural but result of careful culture and train- 
ing, 342; his pulpit prayers, remark of a gifted lady, 346-347; his good 
sense, 347; summary of his theology, 348; after 6 months, Plymouth 
Church crowded, 348; policeman's direction to strangers; "Follow the 

402 



INDEX 

crowd," 349; Dr. Starr's and Dr. Abbott's estimates of Beecher's oratorical 
power, 349. The three divisions in his Plymouth Church pastorate, 350. 
Irresistible in his plea for the slave, striking example, 351; two efforts 
during Civil War, 352; the five speeches in England, 353; his encounters 
with hostile audiences, 354; Dr. Mark Hopkins concerning the victory 
achieved; the ovation given him on his return to the United States, 355; 
the mystery of the Tilton scandal, 355; charges made against him similar 
to those against John Wesley, 356; a good man of unimpeachable morality 
357; the statue to his memory in the City Hall Square, Brooklyn, 357; 
suggestions made by it to a candid beholder, 358. 

Beecher, Lyman, father of Henry Ward Beecher; his fame as a preacher 
326; playfulness in his family, 326; trains his children to independence of 
mind, 327; his call to Hanover St. Church, Boston, 327; a defender of 
Evangelical Christianity, 327; the revival produced by his ministry there, 
Wendell Phillips among the converts, 327 — call to Lane Seminary, — a 
bed of thorns, 332. 

"Ben Hur," by Gen. Lew Wallace, 32, 33. 

Bernard of Clairvaux, birth, parentage and early life, 71-73; inherited 
traits from father and mother, 72; attracted to a martial career, 73; 
drawn by memory of his mother to a religious life, story of his conversion, 
73; what was meant in that age by a religious life, 74; turns by his elo- 
quence his brothers, uncle and twenty others to it, 74. Their choice of 
Citeaux rather than Clugni, 75; their accession to Citeaux necessitates 
colonization, 76; Bernard and twelve others establish themselves at 
Clairvaux, 76; Bernard's faith and inspiring example, 77; the institution 
of Monasticism, 78; its original purpose and Scriptural warrant, 79; 
the cravings it satisfies, 80; Cistercian monks like those of Clairvaux, 
reformed Benedictines, 81; the "Canonical Hours," 82; comments of 
Thomas Fuller upon them, 83; Dr. Storr's summary of the life at Clair- 
vaux, 84 ; statement of the Catholic Encyclopedia, 85 ; incidental benefits 
to mankind from monastaries, 85; many superior men drawn to them, 
86; the error of monasticism, 8; effect on Bernard, and his preservation 
from its dangers, 87; his labors and immense influence, 87-88; personal 
characteristics, 88-90; opinions of Luther and Calvin in regard to him, 
91; Dr. Storrs on his religious belief, 91; Neander on his deep religious 
experience, 91; this the source of other qualities, 92; examples of his 
remarkable eloquence, 93-97; his saintly character, 97; canonized 
twenty years after death, 98; a gospel preacher of doctrines of great spirit- 
ual power, 98; his hymns, 99; his eloquence a divine gift, 100; his life 
emphasizes value of three things, 100, 101 ; Bernard's faults of character 
and conduct, 102; Abelard, his enthusiasm in study and brilliancy of 
mind, 102-103; Dr. Stons' statement of his aim as a theologian, 103; 

403 



INDEX 

his contempt of critics and opponents, 104; the father of modern rational- 
ism, 104; Bernard's opinion of him, 104-105; the two men represented 
"colliding tendencies," 105; they join issue at Council of Sens, 105; 
Abelard's conduct there inexplicable — a puzzle of history, 107; Bernard's 
insistence that the Council condemn him unjust, 707; alleged danger of 
his teaching not a good reason, 107; Abelard finds a refuge at Clugni, 
108; character of Peter the Venerable, its abbot, 108; Abelard's "History 
of Calamities," 108; his reconciliation with Bernard and peaceful end; 
his life not a failure, 109; Dr. Storrs' summary, 110. 

Bible biographies, 6, 7. 

Binney, Dr. Thomas, 310. 

Biographies, Ministerial, spiritually beneficial, 6; entertaining, 10; 
inspiring to the discouraged, 12; suggestive of good method, 14; give 
ideals, 25. 

Bossuet, most celebrated preacher in reign of Louis XIV, 165; M. 
Gandar's careful study of Bossuet, 165; dedicated by pious parents to the 
Catholic priesthood, 166; educated for it in Dijon, his native city, and at 
College of Navarre, Paris, 166; youthful precocity exhibited in Salon of 
Marquise de Rambouillet, 167; tribute to Nicolas Cornet, 166; unspoiled 
by early admiration, 167; the "fatal gift" of fluency, Lord Russell quoted, 
168; from things required of a good preacher, 169; Bossuet's six years in 
Metz, 169; incident in French history about Cardinal de Bouillon, 170; 
the things emphasized by Bossuet reveal his own method, 170; the two 
most essential things, 170; primary purpose of study of the Scriptures, 
171; value of Church Fathers; much accomplished by little regular 
persevering study, 171; remark of Lamartine, 172; accent of authority 
derived from Scripture, 172; his lighter diet, 172; a grand style natural to 
him; things learned later, 173; two remarkable powers, 173; unfettered 
freedom, 173; benefit of previous writing, 174; reputation in Metz, 174; 
Dr. John Brown quoted, 174; Mr. Gandar; Dr. Horace Bushnell on the 
"talent of growth," 175; two means of self -improvement used, 176; 
benefits from a year in Paris, 177; influence of Pascal, 178; Dean Church 
quoted, 179; these efforts commendable, 179; preaches before Anne of 
Austria, Queen Mother, 180; invited to preach Lenten Sermons of the 
Louvre, 180; in constant request from 1660 to 1670; his audiences, 180; 
funeral orations, 181-182; remark of Guisot, 182; culmination of career, 
183; always a learner, 183; not of blameless life or flawless character, 
183; approved of Revocation of Edict of Nantes, 183; absurd laudation 
of Louis XIV, 184; Guizot's opinion of Bossuet, and the estimate of Mr. 
Gandar, 184: "Golden Age of the French Pulpit, "fruitless, 184; its preach- 
ing compared with that of Baxter and the Wesleys, 185; reasons for its 
ineffectiveness. 

404 



INDEX 

Bos well, James, biographer of Samuel Johnson, 130. 

Boyd, Rev. Archibald, 245. 

Brainard, David, 242. 

Brastow, Prof. L. O., quoted, 255, 272, 278, 361, 377, 379, 380. 

Breda, 134 

Brooks, Phillips, his parents and birthplace, 361-363; education at 
Latin School and Harvard College, 364, 365; spiritual and religious de- 
velopment, his mother's wisdom in it, 365-367; Dr. W. N. Clarke quoted, 
365; not successful as a teacher, 367; theological school in Alexandria, 
Va., 368-371; notebooks, 371-375; first attempts at preaching, 375-376; 
called to Church of the Advent, Philadelphia, 376; ministry in Phila- 
delphia, 376-377; personal qualities, 377-385; Dr. Weir Mitchell quoted, 
385, 386, 391; Commemoration Day at Harvard, 385; President Eliot's 
remark, 385-386; Brooks' eloquence, 386; made of preparation for preach- 
ing, 386-388; affluence of thought and feeling, — Professor A. B. Bruce 
quoted, 389; influence of the outbreak of the Civil War, 389-390; Eulogy 
of Lincoln, 390; his friends, 390-391; ministry in Boston, 392; published 
sermons, 392-393; preaches in Westminster Abbey and before the Queen, 
393; preaching in Huntington Hall, testimony of Principal Tulloch, 394; 
"Lectures on Preaching," 394; ministry to students of Harvard College, 
395-396; his death, body borne to and from Trinity Church by students, 
396; his last sermon on the main theme of his ministry, 397; his statue 
by St. Gaudens, 397; the Phillip's Brooks House at Harvard, 397; the 
Inscription in Central Hall, 397; his aspiration fulfilled, 398. 

Brooks, William Gray, father of Phillips, 361-363. 

Brown, Dr. John, quoted, 174, 212, 213, 224, 227, 296, 299, 300. 

Bruce, Prof. A. B. Bruce, 389. 

Bunny's Resolution, 113. 

Bunyan, John, Dr. Thomas Arnold's estimate of him, 191; birth and 
parentage, 191,193, a great genius trained in the school of Providence, 
192; Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, 192; "Grace Abounding," 192; 
living in the Age of Cromwell and the Civil War he scarcely refers to its 
events, 193; account of himself as boy and young man, 194, 195; opinions 
of Macaulay and Froude, 195; a soldier, 195; his marriage, wife's dowry 
and good influence, 196; three providential agencies that shaped him, 
197; the poor Bedford women, 198; Mr. Gifford their pastor, 200, 206; 
began to read the Bible as never before, 201, 215; examples of enlighten- 
ment from the Bible, 202-203; the harm from introspection, 204; tempta- 
tions of Satan, 204, 205; preserved from madness by soothing influence 
of the Bible, 205; his dialogues with Satan like Luther's, 206; Bunyan's 
beliefs and doctrine those of the Reformer, 206; relief given by Luther's 
Commentary on Galatians, 206; Bunyan's use of Scriptures, 207; the 

405 



INDEX 

"law work" upon Bunyan's soul, 207; benefit resulting from it, 208; 
ordained for the ministry at twenty seven, 208; Froude's estimate of him 
as a preacher, 208; his fame reached to London, 209; Dr. John Owen's 
remark to the king about his preaching, 209; qualities that distinguished 
him as a preacher, 210; his remarkable style, 211, 223; on "Christ as 
our Advocate," 212; Dr. John Brown quoted, 212, 213, 224; examples of 
use of his imagination, 213; productiveness of his mind in religious sub- 
jects, 214; the value of the Bible as a fertilizer of the mind, 215; his ser- 
mons as examples of homiletic skill, 216; use of the dialogue, 217; the use 
of it by Prof. E. A. Park, 217; imprisonment for preaching, 217-218; 
the two jails of Bedford, 218; John Howard's name and work associated 
with them, 218; imprisonment of Bunyan and Quakers cost of liberty, 
219; Froude's lame defense of the government, 220; Bunyan's wife to 
the judges, 220; his employment in prison, 220; his treatises, "Grace 
Abounding," "Christian Behavior," "The Holy City" and "Pilgrim's 
Progress" composed in prison, 218, 221, 222; his style, 223; Dean Stanley 
upon the "Pilgrim's Progress," 225-226; his last words from the pulpit, 
and death in London, 228; "Bunhill Fields" his burial place, 228; his 
Memorial Window in Westminster Abbey, 229. 

Burke, Edmund, 5. 

Burnet, Bishop Gilbert, 134, 142. 

Bushnell, Dr. Horace, 175. 

Butler, Rev. Daniel, 12. 

Calvin, John, the Reformer, 91 

Charleton, Margaret, wife of Richard Baxter, 145. 

Chapman, Dr. J. W. 9. 

Chrysostom, John of Antioch, — Dr. R. S. Storrs' estimate of him as a 
preacher, 21, 58; birth, parents, 31; Antioch in the Fourth Century, 
A.D., 32; twofold environment, local and imperial, 32-35; "Ben Hur" 
story of Lew Wallace, 32-33; the decaying Roman empire, 34; the peril 
attending Imperial dignity, 35; instability of the government. 35; general 
apprehension of ruin, 35; the remarkable men and women of this time, 
36; precocity of Chrysostom, his teacher Libanius, 36; enters on the prac- 
tice of law, — but soon abandons it to study for the ministry, 37; his 
friendship for Basil, 37-38; influence of Meletius, bishop of Antioch, 38; 
of Diodorus, the teacher of Bible, 39; the two friends shun episcopal dig- 
nity, 39; the broken promise, 39; Chrysostom's justification of himself, 
40; his mother's death permits the longed for retirement to monastery 
and hermit's cell, 40; ordained deacon by Meletius, and served under 
Flavian, 40; duties of this office, 40-41; Chrysostom's personal qualities, 
41; Cardinal Newman's estimate, 41-42; ordained presbyter by Flavian 
in his fortieth year, 42; his preparatory training of fifteen years needed 

406 



INDEX 

for his work, 42; at once rose to the zenith of fame as preacher in Antioch; 
his eloquence, personal appearance, and oratorical ability, 42-46; has a 
rational theology, 46-49; "Riot of the Statues," 49-50; Treasonable Acts 
of the Mob — revulsion of terror, 50; the Emperor's vengeance feared, 
51; advantage taken of the situation by Chrysostom, and calming effect 
of his preaching, 51 ; Bishop Flavian's winter journey to Constantinople, 
51; wonders wrought by Chrysostom in his absence, 52; extracts from his 
reported sermons, 52-58; their enduring vitality and interest, 59; elo- 
quence of Chrysostom attracts the notice of Eutropius, who desires to 
make him Archbishop of Constantinople, an honor which he shuns, 
59-60; strategem used to kidnap him and carry him off, 60; the dignity 
not a bed of roses, 60; differing ideas of Eutropius and Chrysostom in 
regard to its obligations, 60; at first everything seemed fair through 
popularity of Chrysostum's preaching, 61; torch-light pilgrimage to 
martyr's shrine, and natural admiration of preacher and empress, 61-62; 
a change to hostility, 62; rebuke of the sins of the great, 62-63; his aus- 
terity distasteful to the great, 63; downfall of Eutropius, 64; asylum of 
St. Sophia given him; Empress Eudoxia offended and furious, 65; plots 
for Chrysostum's destruction, 65; condemned and deposed by the 
"Synod of the Oak," 66; exiled and recalled, 66; exiled a second time, 66; 
his death and last words, 67; his relics brought back to Constantinople 
by Eudoxia's son, who kneeling above them implored forgiveness for 
the sins of his parents, 68; but few in the history of the world more 
deserving of honor, 68. 

Church, Dean R. W. 173, 179. 

Clarke, Dr. W. N. quoted, 365, 371, 380-382. 

Coan, Rev. Titus, Missionary, 9. 

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 187; verse quoted, 148. 

Conde, Louis, the "Great Conde," 181. 

Cornet, Nicolas, teacher of Bossuet, 166. 

Cuyler, Dr. Theodore L., 342. 

Cyprian, Church Father, 171. 

Dante, 25, 251. 

Daphne, Grove of, in Antioch, 33. 

Davis, Rev. Benjamin, 285. 

Denys, Helen, 245. 

Diodorus, teacher of Chrysostom, 38. 

Doddridge, Dr. Philip, 129. 

Doyden, John, poet and prose writer, 5. 

Eliot, Dr. C. W., former President of Harvard College, 385. 

Epictetus, 192. 

Eudoxia, Empress, 62, 65-66. 

407 



INDEX 

Eutropius, 59-60, 64-65. 

Finney, Rev. Charles, G., 9. 

Flavian, 40, 42, 51. 

Fox, Charles J., distinguished British Orator, 20. 

Fox's "Book of Martyrs," 139. 

Gandar, M. Eug., 165, 175, 177, 184. 

Gibbon, Edward, historian, 41. 

Goodell, Dr. C. L., 23, 24. 

Guisot, French historian, 182, 181. 

Guthrie, Dr. Thomas, Scotch preacher, 16-18. 

Hadley, S. H., 9. 

Hale, Dr. Edward Everett, 10. 

Hale, Sir Matthew, English Judge, 145. 

Hall, Dr. Newman, 21. 

Hall, Robert, 59. 

Hamilton, Alexander, 174. 

Henrietta, duchess of Orleans, 181. 

Hodge, Dr. Charles, 37. 

Hooker, Richard, 115. 

Hyde, Chancellor, Earl of Clarendon, 134, 136, 138. 

Jeffries, the infamous English Judge, 159. 

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 130. 

Jowett, Professor Benjamin, Oxford University, VII, 143. 

Jowett, Dr. J. H., Clergyman, quoted 261, 262. 

Judson, Dr. Adoniram, Missionary, 9. 

Keble, John, author of the "Christian Year," 239. 

Knox, Alexander, 295. 

Knox, John, Scottish Reformer, 13, 139. 

Lamartine, 172. 

Lenten Sermons of Bossuet, in 1662, 181. 

Libanius, teacher of Chrysostom, 36-37, Liddon, 59. 

Louis XIV, King of France, 181, 186-187. 

Lowell, James Russell, 28. 

Luther, the Reformer, 13, 277. 

Mather, Cotton, 161. 

McChene, 24. 

McLaren, Alexander: his name 283; birthplace and parents, 283-284; 
a scholar in Glasgow High School and University, 284; enters Baptist 
College at Stepney, Rev. Benjamin Davis, Principal, 285; religious de- 
velopment, influence of Rev. David Rusell, 285; "had to be" a minister, 
286; called to preach at Portland Chapel, Southampton, at age of twenty, 
286; benefits of his early ministry there of twelve years, 286; conception 

408 



INDEX 

of the Christian ministry, 287; study of the Scriptures evident from man- 
ner of reading them in public; a careful exigete of the Bible; Dr. C. H. 
Parkhurst's tribute to his example, 287; the formative years — the first 
years, 287; always endeavors to do his best, rapid progress in preaching 
power, appreciation of his work by Southampton people, magnified 
preacher's office above pastoral, 288; his method and principles of work: 
resolves not to write his sermons, but to think and feel them; so saturating 
his mind with his subject that facing his congregation — looking into 
their eyes — his thoughts clothed themselves in suitable words, 289; did 
not entirely discard his pen, — wrote two or three introductory sentences — 
heads of divisions — jottings and closing sentences, 289; not a careless 
workman, 290; studies gave him an opulent mind, 291; address to min- 
isters at City Temple, London, 291, 319; principles that shaped his min- 
istry, 291-297; test of personal experience, 292, 294; a sermon "a cordial 
communication of vitalized truth," 295; the preacher "a herald of God," 
295; just to the sense of his text, 296; labors upon his sermon plans, 296; 
McLaren's call to Union Chapel, Manchester, 297; his ministry of 45 
years there — a successful ministry from first to last, Sir Wm. R. Nichol's 
testimony, 297; "Sermons preached in Manchester," 298, 300; 302, 303; 
his local influence and reputation in Manchester, 308-309; world-wide 
influence upon the ministry of his time, 319; impression of his sermon and 
preaching upon Dr. Parkhurst, 298; ministerial Jubliee, 291; power of 
productive thinking, 293; "Word of Counsel" to Theological Students, 
293; his marriage, tribute to his wife, 306-307; chosen President of Bap- 
tist Uniou in 1875, 307; demands of special occasions, 309; at Free Trade 
Hall, Manchester, in London, "Secret of Power," Dr. Thomas Binney, 
310; his pulpit prayers, 311-312; manner of preaching, 311-312; each 
Sunday service "a woe," 313; old sermons, if used, must be revivified, 
313; dependence on sleep to recuperate nerve power, and his ability to 
command it, 314; a modest, approachable man, story of his photograph, 
315; receives from Edinburgh University degree of D.D., 315; impaired 
health, a year's vacation, given an assistant, J. G. Raws, 316; from 1881 
to close of minority, one sermon a Sunday, 316; visits Australia and New 
Zealand; interest produced by his preaching in antipodes, 317; Rev. J. 
Edward Roberts made his assistant and colleague, 317; meeting of the 
Baptist Union in Edinburgh in 1901, 319; address on "Evangelical 
Mysticism," 320; resigns his pastorate, 320; but not to be idle, 321; his 
last years, years of increasing holiness, 321 ; the direction of his thoughts 
when free, 821; testimony of his physician, 322; death, words carved on 
his tombstone, 322. 

McLaren, David, father of Alexander, 283-284. 

McLarin, Marian, wife of Alexander, 306-307; her death, 316. 

409 



INDEX 

McLaren, Mary Wingate, mother of Alexander, 284. 

Meletius, bishop of Antioch, 38. 

Meldenius, Rupertus, author of Baxter's rule of toleration, 149. 

Merriam, Rev. George, 10, 11. 

Milton, John, English author, 5, 25, 132. 

Miltiades, 13. 

Mitchell, Miss Elisabeth, 391. 

Mitchell, Dr. Weir, 391. 

Moody, D. L., 9, 21. 

Narrative of his own Life (Reliquae Baxterianae), 149. 

Nectarius, 59, 63. 

"New Acts," 9. 

Newton, Rev. W. W., 390. 

Newman, J. H. Cardinal, 41, 238. 

Nott, Dr. Eliphalet, 16. 

Orme, William, author of Life of Richard Baxter, 146, 148. 

Owen, Dr. John, 146. 

Park, Dr. Edwards A., 217. 

Parker, Dr. Joseph, 304, 310, 344. 

Parkhurst, Dr. Charles H., 287, 298-299. 

Pascal, 178. 

Paton, Rev. John G., Missionary, 9. 

Pattison, Prof. T. H., 293. 

Payson, Dr. Edward, 23, 24. 

Petrarch, 25. 

Pierson, Rev. A. T., 9. 

Pitt, William, 20. 

Phillips, Mary Ann, mother of Phillips Brooks, 361-363, 365. 

Plato, 25. 

Pusey, Dr. E. B., 238. 

Raws, Rev. J. G., 316. 

Roberts, Rev. J. Edwards, 317. 

Robertson, Frederick W. Most remarkable English preacher of his 
century; reputation and influence posthumous; "Life and Letters" by 
Rev. Stopford Brooke, 233; his remarkable sermons, 234; family and early 
environment, 234; education and mental development, a student in 
New Academy, Edinburgh, 235; wish to enter the army, 236; aversion to 
the ministry; the mysterious ruling of providence, 236-237; disappoint- 
ment; remains ever a soldier at heart, 237; student life at Oxford, 237; 
contemporaries and teachers, 237; the "Tractarian Movement" and 
Newman's Sermons, 238; appreciation of Keble's "Christian Year," 
239; dissent from Tractarian doctrine, 239; his study of the Bible, 239; 

410 



INDEX 

harm of desultory reading; the mischief of "careless multifarious" 
reading, 240; — his reading of Classic and standard English writers, 241; 
his ministry in four places, 241; in Winchester, as curate — his rector, 
Mr. Nicholson, 241; life and work at Winchester, Brainard's Life; his 
sermons, 243; ordered to Switzerland for his health; health improved by 
change; valuable acquaintances in Geneva; Cesar Malan and Helen 
Denys, whom he marries, 245; given a curacy in Cheltenham; happy in his 
rector, Rev. Archibald Boyd, 245; his inspiring preaching in Cheltenham, 
brilliancy as a talker, 245-246; three things greatly affected him there: 
friends, the social atmosphere, and books, 247; influence of the social 
atmosphere baneful, other two good; Cheltenham, a fashionable watering 
place, frequented by intolerant religious people, 248; Robertson estranged 
from the Evangelical School by the harsh, untruthful utterances of the 
Record and Guardian; hasty and unjust in his judgment of this School, 
'249; The break with them gradual, 250; his reading of Tennyson's 
"In Memoriam," Carlyle, Guizot, Nicbuhr, Dante expanded and enriched 
his mind, 251; other profitable reading; neglect of exercise,252; Words- 
worth quoted, 253; determines to sever connection with Evangelical 
School, 253; goes to Tyrol and Innsbruck, 254; Spiritual Crisis, 254; 
Professor Brastow quoted, 255; given charge of St. Ebbe's Oxford, by 
Bishop Wilberforce, 256; the attraction of his preaching because of new 
light received, 256; the principles of his teaching henceforth, 257; Trinity 
Chapel, Brighton, offered him; enters upon his labors there in his 32nd 
year, 257; Brighton as a fashionable watering-place, 257-258; expository 
lectures on 1st Samuel, 258; accused of political preaching, 259; charged 
with Socialism, 260; the Record attacks him, 260; his reply, 261; Dr. J. H. 
Jewett quoted, 261, 262; Robertson's intense sensitiveness; his preaching 
in Trinity Chapel, 263-267; mode of preparing sermons, 264; their en- 
during interest, 265; contemporary conditions: a time of transition in 
theology, 268; of transition in politics, 269; of transition in style of 
preaching, 271; shattered health, 272-273; chronic morbidness of mind, 
273-274; laid upon himself unnecessary crushing burdens, ex: writing out 
his sermons after delivery, 275; the world's profit from this sacrifice of 
friendship and the fame thus won scarcely a compensation for the misery 
it cost him, 275; symptoms of distress and breakdown, 276; premature 
death in middle of 38th year, 276; Luther's remark, 277; Robertson's 
repugnance to hearing commendation of his sermons, 277; a seer as well 
as an eloquent preacher, 278; his wholesome modernism, 278; the shifting 
of emphasis from theological dogmas to ethical precepts of the New 
Testament and the example and spirit of Christ largely due to him, 279. 

Richards, Rev. C. A., 390. 

Russell, Rev. David, 285. 

411 



INDEX 

Russell, Lord William, 146. 

Sevigne, Madam de, 178, 

South, Dr. Robert, 59. 

Sozomen, 42. 

Stanley, Dean A. P., 148, 158, 226, 393. 

Stevens, Sir James, 150. 

Storrs, Dr. R. S., quoted, 31, 58, 59, 78, 84, 91, 103, 110, 349. 

Synod of the Oak, 66. 

Taylor, Jeremy, 59. 

Taylor, Dr. Win. M., 19. 

Tennyson, Alfred, 251. 

Tertullian, 171. 

Theodosius, the Great, 36, 49-50. 

Theophilus, Archbishop of Alexandria, o5. 

Themistocles, 13. 

Thoburn, Bishop, J. M., 9. 

Tillotson, 5. 

Tractarian Movement, 238-239. 

Trumbull, Rev. H. C, 24. 

Turenne, Marshal, 170. 

Tyrol, 254. 

Venus de Milo, 4. 

Vincent, Dr. J. H. (bishop of M. E. Church), 22. 

Vinton, Dr. A. H., 367, 369. 

Wayland, Dr. Francis, 16. 

Webster, Daniel, 21, 174. 

White, Andrew, D., 343. 

Whitefield, Rev. George, 17. 

Whittier, J. G., 26. 

Williams, John, Missionary, 9. 

Wordsworth, quoted, 253. 



412 



DEC 28 1912 



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